God Help the Outcasts
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: **CONCLUDED MARCH 6TH!** The prejudice against winged beings is now coming to a head, with Cloud and Sephiroth right in the middle of it. And what is Hojo's part in all of this?
1. They Tell Us We Are Only Outcasts

**Kingdom Hearts II**

**God Help the Outcasts**

**By LuckyLadybug**

**Notes: The characters are not mine, and the story is! I've been planning this for some time (years, actually, and originally the plot was going to be used for an entirely different fandom and set of characters), and I have been working on the content that is this first chapter for several months. The title song has been an immense inspiration, as well as Lisa and Kaze! Some of this story will be taken from RPs with Lisa, so she must be credited for some of the twists. It takes place after **_**Frozen Shadows**_**, and it is what I promised it would lead to.  
**

* * *

**Chapter One**

**They Tell Us We Are Just Outcasts**

Zack leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he clasped his hands under his chin. His heart was aching, shredded by what had occurred and what was still trying to be repaired.

With blank lavender eyes, he gazed at the scene before him. Cloud was laying so still and quiet in the bed, pale against the whiteness of the pillowcase. His wounds were bandaged, but his bruises and bumps were very visible. His expression was not empty, the pain still very apparent even in unconsciousness. Cloud had felt acute agony before he had succumbed to oblivion. He had been stabbed in his right shoulder, and when Zack had examined him, it had also felt like a rib had been cracked. That area was very tender, at least, and if Zack dared to pull back the robe to study it again, he would likely find that the flesh had begun to turn a cruel purplish hue.

One injury was still being tended to, by Seph. The older man had removed his gloves and threaded a needle, and was taking it in and out of the limp bat wing with care. Someone had taken their knife and had torn a good portion of the leathery appendage. Cloud was so deeply unconscious that he did not even notice Seph's attempt at mending it. Well . . . that was a good thing, at least. That, and the fact that the bones had not been damaged.

Seph had been hurt, too. The way he was holding his lower right wing so close to him testified of that. He did not want it to be bumped. It had been struck hard at least once that Zack had seen, and maybe other times too, when he had not been viewing it. Seph was moving slower than usual when he walked, and it was possible that he had gotten something else injured as well. He would never say so, not unless it became impossible for him to hide it. He had already told Zack that he was fine, and that Cloud needed their immediate attention. Of course that was true, but as soon as Seph finished with the wing, Zack was going to examine his other best friend, whether Seph protested or not.

And this had all happened just because of their wings. Their _wings_, which should be reverenced and respected for what they were---extra limbs capable of allowing their owners to take flight! The wings did not mean that Cloud and Seph were both demons who should be unfairly and outrageously beaten! They were both good and kind people!

Zack slumped into the chair, unclasping his hands and spreading them in front of him. He had snapped, when he and Seph had come on the scene and had seen Cloud being held down by all those thugs while others pounded his poor body. Seph had gone and ripped the closest ones away, and when they had recovered and realized that their plans were being foiled, they had started to lunge at him.

And then Zack had been bearing down on them, a furious battle cry tearing from his lips. What right did they have, to attack another human being and to not even give him a chance to defend himself? Cloud had been trying, and from some of the bullies' injuries, he had done a pretty good job of it. But they had still triumphed over him in the end. And Zack had punched and kicked and thrown them with all the strength of a powerful military leader. He had not been fighting them as such a leader, however. He had engaged in combat as an outraged friend, and they were not likely to forget the wrath they had brought upon themselves.

He looked back up at Seph, who was nearing the end of the tear. Seph had said that he wanted to take care of it himself, for several reasons. Since he also had wings, he would know best how it needed to be done. And he felt he owed it to Cloud, after the many long months Cloud had spent tending to Seph's wings and trying to help them heal. Zack had been perfectly willing to let Seph take care of it then; he was not sure he could have held his hands steady enough for such a task anyway. He was still so angry . . . !

Seph reached for the scissors, cutting through the thread. His able fingers began to tie it down several times, making certain that it would not come loose. The long bangs hid his expression, especially from Zack's position, but it was obvious that he was angry as well.

". . . It should heal normally."

Zack gave a brief start at the sound of Seph's voice. He was closing the final knot, and leaning back to survey his work. The wing did not so much as twitch. Cloud might as well have been under an actual anesthesia.

"You don't sound altogether sure of that, Seph."

Sephiroth shook his head in weariness, reaching to pull the quilt up over Cloud's still form. "It should . . . but that doesn't mean it will," he answered. "We'll have to wait and see."

Zack clenched a fist, pushing himself upright. "Well . . . it's time for you to get checked out now, Seph," he declared, forcing a lighter tone into his voice. "And don't protest!"

Sephiroth grunted. "I told you I'm fine," he said, a slight edge slipping into his own voice.

Zack stopped in front of him. "Your 'I'm fine's are pretty meaningless, Seph," he said, his tone quieting. "Your poor wing . . ." He looked down at it, reaching out a hand to touch the previously deformed bones.

Seph's hand shot out, grabbing Zack's wrist. "Please . . . don't touch it," he said. The pain in his voice could only barely be masked.

"Seph . . ." Zack swallowed hard, staring up at the older man. For Seph to be so desperate to keep his wing from being touched, and to actually say that to him, it must be even worse than he had thought. Seph was often stubborn and sometimes irritated by Zack's attempts to check him over after a battle, but most of the time he would allow it anyway.

The scream that had torn from his lips when his bent wing had been struck was still haunting Zack.

"It needs to be looked at, Seph," he said at last.

Seph shook his head with firmness. "I've already looked at it. It hurts worse to move it." It would be alright in a few hours. Once it had ached somewhat like this when he had fallen off Cloud's couch and had landed directly on top of it. Now the pain was just a more intense version of that. He would just have to wait it out, as miserable as that was going to be.

He sighed, uncurling his fingers from Zack's wrist. "At least one of them saw who you are," he said, his tone turning grim. "They won't let you forget it."

Zack again clenched a fist. "I don't care," he said emphatically. "I'm not afraid of those cowards. They messed up both of my best friends, and they didn't even have a reason!" It made him so angry! How could any human being stand there and relish inflicting pain on another?! Poor Cloud had not even been able to do anything to protect himself, once they had all pinned him down. And then they had started hitting Seph's wings without warning, once he and Zack had joined the fight. It was just mindless cruelty!

Sephiroth laid a hand on Zack's shoulder. "You may not care," he said, "but I do. I don't want to see you hurt." He paused. "You already have been, for that matter. I've noticed your limp is worse."

"Ah, it's okay." Subconsciously Zack rubbed at the offending leg. "Maybe I overexerted myself a little too much, but I had to do _something._"

"I know." But that did not make Sephiroth worry any less.

Zack looked over at him. "Hey . . . I'm already pretty mixed up in this, Seph," he said with a sad smile. "And I already have been hurt, but hardly any of it's physical. What happens to you and Cloud involves me too. We're all gonna have to ride this thing to its end."

Sephiroth knew that was true. And he was angry as well. They had no right to assault Cloud as they had done. When he had first seen his former rival's limp body, he had not even been able to notice breath at first. Cloud had looked so pathetic, laying on the ground, bleeding, his clothes and wing torn. . . .

"They beat him almost to death," Zack whispered, as if reading Sephiroth's thoughts.

Sephiroth's grip tightened. He wanted to tell Zack that Cloud would wake up, that his wing would heal better than Sephiroth's had, that he would be just fine. He wanted to say that Cloud's injuries looked worse than they actually were; that he was not really laying on the threshold between life and death.

But Sephiroth could not bring himself to tell a possible lie. Not to Zack.

So instead he simply remained there in silence with his friend.

* * *

_Cloud grumbled to himself as he wandered down the lonely streets, making sure to keep his bat wing hidden underneath his tattered cape. That had been his practice for some time now, and with good reason. For the last several months, people in and around Hollow Bastion had been growing wary of anyone with wings. The extra limbs were such a rare phenomena that no one seemed to know what to think, and it was a growing viewpoint that such people (or "creatures" as they were more commonly called) would be the downfall of the entire town---maybe of the world, or the universe. The problem was, such ridiculous ideas were unfounded._

_Cloud rolled his eyes. Prejudice against wings on any humans threw himself and Sephiroth into the same boat. Not that they were getting along so badly these days. It still bewildered him, when he tried to fully comprehend that they had slipped into a friendship almost without either of them realizing. But Zack had always known._

_A footfall in front of him made him sharply look up. The shadowy man standing there looked like he belonged at the head of a gang, from the large muscles protruding through his ripped sleeveless shirt to the deadly weapon in his hand. Great. The blond narrowed his eyes. All he wanted was to go past. Was that going to be so difficult?_

_A brass-knuckled fist was shoved an inch from his face. "Not so fast," the thug said, his tone much too smooth and calm for comfort. "We just wanna have a friendly chat."_

_Cloud glowered at him, a chill running down his spine at the term "we." Gripping tightly at his sword, he started to turn around. Other gangsters were coming out from all directions, starting to surround him. There seemed to be at least ten in all. Ten too many. Under his cape, his wing twitched._

_"I don't have anything to say to you," he said, looking back to the leader._

_The muscle man shrugged, stepping closer to Cloud and starting to walk around him. "We're just . . . doin' a tally of all the people we can find," he announced, "seein' how many of 'em have wings and all that."_

_Cloud met his gaze coldly. "There's no wings here."_

"You hear that, boys?" His voice had become boisterous. "There's no wings here."

_All of them started to laugh. It was a cruel, heartless sound._

_"You _are_ Cloud Strife, aren't you?" the leader grinned, his yellowing teeth gleaming under the light of the stars._

_It seemed pointless to deny it, but Cloud also did not want to confirm it. So he instead opted for saying nothing, glaring icily at his assailant._

_"Spiky blond hair, black clothes, red cape, freakin' huge sword . . . and one wing." Without warning the man reached under the crimson material, his hand closing painfully around what he sought. Cloud gasped in agony as the extra appendage was drawn into full view of everyone there. It felt like it was being crushed in this man's hand._

_"See this, boys?" the thug yelled, moving his hand so that it was tightly around the bone at the top. "This is a bonafied, genuine, demon wing." He inserted the most vile expletives that he could think of before continuing. "And we hate guys with wings, right?" His grin widened as everyone nodded._

_The feel of the rough, unkind hand on his wing was horrible. More than anything at that moment, Cloud wanted to pull away. He wanted to whirl around, the sword held high, and force the creep to let go. And yet he could not. If he showed the first signs of violence, then they would all descend upon him for certain. He had to keep still and hope that they would leave him alone. But he knew they would not. He was going to have to fight them._

_"It don't matter what kind of wings they got, we just don't want 'em around." Abruptly he kicked Cloud's legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground with a gasp. The wing was released, roughly, and it landed on the street at Cloud's side. A boot immediately stepped on it, pinning it down._

_Cloud's eyes widened, the anguish shooting through him like a knife. They were going to crush it! They were going to try to cripple him, just like the dragon had partially done with one of Sephiroth's wings! He had to get away, he had to get up somehow. . . . Keeping his right hand on the sword's hilt, he closed his left hand around his captor's ankle. With a sudden jerk, he caused the man to lose his balance, and he fell backwards onto the ground with a curse-filled cry._

_Immediately Cloud got to his feet again. "I don't want any trouble," he said, his voice gaining an edge. If he could just get past . . . !_

_"Trouble?" grinned a second man as he planted himself in front of the blond. "You got trouble when you decided to grow yourself a wing." He flung out a chain, wrapping it quickly around the buster sword. He yanked on it, trying to dislodge the weapon from Cloud's grasp._

_But Cloud hung on, throwing all his weight into gathering enough momentum to send his attacker back. The chain unwound, hitting the thug in the face. Now that they were being aggressive, Cloud was going to have to be as well._

_The man swore angrily, raising a hand to the cut that was forming. "Show him no mercy!" he yelled._

_And they all ganged up on him at once._

_Anger, panic, frustration, and fear surged through Cloud's heart. They were coming at him from all sides, even jumping from above! Every time he forced one back, two more leaped in their place. Surely there were more than ten now! It seemed that it must be twenty, thirty! They were everywhere! And they were all bent on one goal---hurting him in any way possible._

_Harsh weapons slammed down on his arms and legs---clubs, sticks, the brass knuckles, whatever was available. Half the time he could not even see what they were using, but he would feel the pain once they did. Several times he was struck by chains, and then something stabbed him in the shoulder. A scream tore from his lips, and as they continued to assault him in unison, he could feel that he was losing his balance._

_No, he had to stay standing! The moment he collapsed, he would be completely defenseless. He had to be able to fight!_

_The sharp object plunged into the leathery skin of his wing. He screamed again, feeling it tearing as the weapon was moved in a crooked line through the flesh. Clutching his sword, he turned as fast as he could, forcing the person to stop by cutting into his side with the thick blade. A strangled cry of pain met his ears, and then a chain went around his own neck._

"Here's the deal," a cruel voice told him. "We can hurt you, but you can't hurt us. Got it?"

_A harsh boot kicked him forward onto the ground, releasing the pressure of the chain at the same time. Cloud gasped, the asphalt scraping his chin and his bare arms. Before he even had a chance to get up, they were all upon him again, beating, pounding, kicking, hitting, stabbing. . . ._

_Fire surged through his side as something pounded into it. His eyes widened, gritting his teeth as he clutched in vain at the ground. Now it felt like some kind of damage had been done to one of his ribs. Was it even broken? What if a lung ended up pierced? He shut his eyes, choking back a wave of nausea._

_Was he going to die here, like this? Now he could not even get up to try to fight back. They had overpowered him. Their heartless laughter was incessant, echoing all around him and probably all down the deserted street. They were having fun. It was not as it was with some people, who were simply frightened of the winged men or who would attack out of self-defense. These people just wanted to be cruel. It was all a game to them._

_It sounded like other voices were joining in now---indignant, furious voices. Then, gradually, the burden began to be lightened. He frowned a bit, struggling to drag himself out of the semi-conscious state into which he was slipping. What was going on? It sounded like the men hurting him were being attacked as they were pulled away from him. He could hear what sounded like punching, and cries of anger and pain on both sides._

_Slowly he raised his head, blinking with bleary eyes at the sight in front of him. Zack . . . it was Zack. . . . He was flipping one of the men right over his shoulder, then immediately slugging another one across the face. He acted like he had completely lost it. Cloud frowned more, in concern. Of course he was grateful for the help, but Zack's fury could backfire and cause trouble for him later. What if these people came after him too? Or what if the military was angry at him? Maybe they would think that he was not making a good impression._

_Or maybe even his bad leg would suddenly give out and he would fall. It had improved greatly since Hojo had shot Zack several months ago, but it was not entirely healed. The doctors wondered if he would always have some kind of a limp from now on. He had needed therapy for some time to be able to walk on it at all. And he still required his cane. He was beating one guy to the ground with it, when the creep had tried to kick Zack down._

_Cloud had to smirk a bit at the blurry image. These people did need to be taught a lesson. Zack was the perfect one to do it, as long as nothing happened to him in the process._

_The last of his attackers was pulled away, and he could hear the man slam into the wall with a yelp. Then he felt other hands reaching for him, carefully starting to lift him. He tensed. Zack was still fighting the others, so who was . . ._

_"There isn't any point in trying to get away from me. You'll hurt yourself worse."_

_He blinked again, staring upward at the cold voice. "Sephiroth . . ."_

_The older man tried to keep his expression impassive as he straightened up with Cloud's limp body in his arms. He would not openly display his concern for the other, but he was trying to hold Cloud in such a way that would not cause his wounds to be jarred. That was proving difficult._

_Not to mention that he had been assisting Zack in the fight and he himself seemed hurt. Cloud had been right, the original ten had been joined by at least that same number. Sephiroth had been forced to use some of his lesser fire attacks on some of them, to create a shield and prevent them from coming back over to Cloud._

_"You're lucky to be alive," he remarked, and then looked over to Zack. "Leave them for now," he directed. "Cloud needs immediate help."_

_Zack looked over, giving his opponent one final shove before hurrying to them as fast as he could. All the more, he was leaning on his uninjured leg. He swallowed hard, the horror obvious in his eyes as he finally got a good look at his childhood friend's battered body. "Cloud . . . oh man. . . ." He cursed under his breath, which was rare for Zack with his gentle nature. "What did they do to you?!"_

_Cloud tried to give a weak smirk. "That bad, huh?" The dizziness was starting to overwhelm him again. He was probably not going to be able to stay awake. Already he could feel himself fading, especially when Sephiroth seemed to abruptly teleport with them. Of course it was done to help them get away, but it was making unconsciousness come so much faster. . . ._

_"Cloud!" He could hear Zack pleading, as if from far away. "Come on, you've gotta stay with us! Focus on my voice. . . ."_

_But it was no use. The darkness was calling too strongly.  
_

* * *

Zack rubbed his tired, bloodshot eyes, a yawn ripping free before he could stop himself. It was even later into the night by now. Cloud had not woken up, or even moved. His wing lay spread exactly as it had been when Seph had stitched it.

"Ah man," Zack murmured. "It's just not right, to see you so still, buddy."

He did not see how he would sink into sleep at all, not while all of this was going on and he was so worried. Seph had left the room a few minutes ago, having said something about warming something for them to eat. Zack did not feel like eating, either. But he knew he needed to. He stretched, yawning again.

A shadow falling across the doorway made him look up. He blinked in surprise when he saw Seph there, gazing at him with a knife in his hand. Seph's expression was devoid of emotion---his eyes cold, his jaw set. It was eerie in any case, but in light of tonight's events, it sent a deep chill up Zack's spine.

"What's up, Seph?" he asked, starting to get up. "Food ready?"

Seph did not move. "No," he answered. Without warning he lunged, bringing the knife up to an angle that would enable it to plunge into Zack's flesh.

Zack stopped short, his eyes wide as he stared at the man barreling at him. His mind had gone blank. Seph . . . what was wrong with Seph? What would make him act this way? Or was this even Seph at all . . . ?

His questions were answered as Seph was restrained . . . by another Seph who had come up from behind. The second one looked over the first's shoulder, his eyes displaying the recognition that Zack knew so well---along with panic and worry. While the first struggled, the real Seph began to drag him backwards, out of the room. With them both being the same size, it was a definite strain.

"Shut the door and don't come out!" he yelled at Zack. The fake one flailed, trying to jab his elbow into Sephiroth's ribs. Green eyes narrowed, and teeth gritted, but the impostor was not released.

"What are you saying, Seph?!" Zack demanded, finally finding his voice as the duo fell back into the hall. How could he just leave Seph to this fight? The last thing he ever wanted to do was to stand by and watch, or worse, to stay locked in the room while hearing the sounds of battle on the other side.

"You're the target!" Seph cried, his tone harsh from his worry. "Lock the door!"

Zack swallowed hard, his eyes widening in horror. _He_ was the target?! He would be in the way during such a fight. But still, still he wanted to help. Seph should not have to fight in Zack's place.

A weak groan from Cloud promptly sliced his attention in two. He looked back, hopeful at the sound. Was Cloud waking up? He was stirring. Zack cried his other friend's name, taking a step in that direction.

. . . What if that fake Seph got in here somehow and hurt Cloud? Zack gripped the edge of the door, his knuckles going white. He really could not join the fight. He needed to stay here and make sure Cloud would be safe. Seph was capable of defending himself, and right now, Cloud could not do the same.

Gritting his teeth, Zack pushed the door shut, turning the lock before hurrying to Cloud's limp form. The blue eyes were half-open now, trying to focus. He looked confused, not to mention in pain. Poor guy, it was understandable, after what he had come through. And what a thing to wake up to, Zack thought as something crashed in the hall.

"Hey, buddy," Zack greeted. "How you feeling?" Though he was worried over what was happening outside the room, his smile was genuine. To see Cloud finally awake was an immense relief. Maybe his wounds were not as serious as they had worried.

"Could be better," Cloud mumbled. "What's wrong with me? My wing feels like it's tied to the bed."

Zack looked to it, seeing how it was limply stretched on the mattress. The dark thread holding the wound closed was visible if it was looked at from a certain angle. Cloud would probably not be happy about the stitches, but it really had been the only way.

"Do you remember what happened at all?" Zack asked, cringing as a muffled thump echoed from the other part of the house.

Cloud seemed too dazed to hear it. "Something about some idiots not liking my wing," he muttered. His whole body was aching, especially his left side. And his wing did not feel that great, either. It was so stiff.

"Yeah. . . ." Zack's voice was angry when he responded. "They had no right to hurt you like they did. If Seph and I hadn't found you . . ." He trailed off, the scream from beyond the door chilling his blood. Was that Seph . . . or the fake one? There was no way to really tell . . . not unless he went out there to look. And how could he not? What if it was Seph? He leaped off the bed, running to the door.

Cloud stared after him, his eyes bleary. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Who screamed?"

Zack shook his head. "I don't know!" he said helplessly, flinging the door open. He would have to brace himself for a battle. If Seph was hurt, than that fake was going to regret ever coming into this house.

The scene before his eyes elicited a gasp from his lips. The Sephs were standing all the way at the bottom of the stairs, locked in combat in the living room. The Masamune was stabbing into the imposter's stomach, having gone all the way through. The fake's eyes were flaming with pain and rage as he grabbed the weapon, trying to force it back. Seph himself was gritting his teeth in agony as he tried to hang onto his sword. The knife had been forced up under the shoulder armor, and blood could be seen seeping out and discoloring the painted white metal.

Realizing that they had been interrupted, the fake Seph turned, fixing Zack with a cruel sneer. Then he stepped back, shoving the blade out of his body at the same time. In the next moment he was gone, leaving two blue feathers in his wake.

The sound of the Masamune dropping to the floor tiles startled Zack back into the present. "Seph!" he screamed, running towards his friend as if he was just snapping out of a trance. He gripped the banister, his knuckles turning white as he descended. Twice he nearly stumbled, his bad leg almost crumpling under him, but he kept coming. He would not be deterred!

Seph looked up at him, his eyes bleary. "Don't hurt yourself worse," he warned. Now he was gripping the knife, attempting to ease it out of his flesh. At least it had not gone all the way through. But this was maddening. Where had the impostor gone? It was seriously wounded, and teleporting would only make it worse. It might just curl up and die once it got to its destination. Surely it would have realized the danger.

Zack reached him, the sick horror still in his eyes as he took the knife from Seph's red-coated fingers. He barely noticed where he put it as he set it down and fumbled with the straps holding Seph's armor in place. Seph had been hurt like this because he had been protecting Zack. And Zack being Zack, he could not help the guilt that was sweeping over him. It was his fault in some way, he told himself, even though that was not true in reality. But poor Seph. . . .

Sephiroth watched as Zack lifted up the armor on his right shoulder, throwing it carelessly to the floor. Through the torn black cloth, the wound was very visible, bleeding incessantly. It might or might not be very deep. It was an irritation in any case. Not only was it paining him, but it was worrying Zack. And of course he felt guilty about it.

"This isn't your fault," Sephiroth grunted. "And it isn't even that serious to begin with."

Zack shook his head, pulling back the ripped edges of the cloth as he examined the stab wound. "It's bad enough," he exclaimed. Tearing off a piece of his shirt, he placed it over the injury.

"I would worry more about the one who caused it." Seph's eyes were narrowed in a dark way. "Not only did he look exactly like me, but his skills and timing were almost a perfect match."

Zack swallowed hard. That was not what he wanted to hear. "What are you saying, Seph?" he asked then.

"Only that if Hojo is still making clones of myself, that must have been one of them. And obviously it isn't kind, like the one who gave his life for you and Cloud."

Zack gasped in alarm. Could that be true? Could Hojo have created a clone that was so diabolical and cruel, while at the same time possessing Seph's skills? It had already shown that it was ruthless. The more he thought on this possibility, the more it made sense---to his dismay and horror.

The upper wing twitched as Zack continued to work with the shoulder wound. It must have hit close to a nerve.

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed in anger. He should not have been caught off-guard. There was no excuse. At least he had wounded the clone as well. Most would be dead from such an injury. It had been eerie in some way---to watch the blade go through the other's stomach. He had died in that way, years ago.

But he would not dwell on that.

"What's going on out there?!"

Cloud's voice was rough and harsh, but the worry was obvious. As well as the frustration that he could not rise.

Sephiroth started, looking towards the upstairs hall. Cloud was awake? He had not realized. But Zack did not seem surprised. He must have known, but had not had the chance to let Sephiroth know. After all, coming out and finding two identical men impaling each other must have been enough of a shock to drive out all previous thoughts from his mind.

"The fight's over," Zack called, his voice strained.

Brief silence. "And Sephiroth's hurt," Cloud deduced.

"It's not serious," Sephiroth said, his tone matter-of-fact.

Cloud grunted. "Is it, Zack?" he asked pointedly.

"Not as bad as it could be," Zack said, "and not as good, either."

Cloud snorted. "Can he walk?"

"Yes," Sephiroth said.

"Then you're better off than me right now."

Zack looked to Seph. "Can you hold this here, pal?" he asked, indicating the torn cloth. "I'll go get the first aid kit."

Sephiroth nodded, reaching with his left hand to keep the makeshift bandages in place.

As Zack hurried down the hall, Sephiroth slowly went up the stairs. Maybe he was foolish, but he wanted to get up there and see Cloud, and to speak to him without yelling back and forth. That could not be good for Cloud in his condition, not to mention it was just vexing for Sephiroth. He kept his lower wings out as much as possible for balance. It hurt too much to move the upper wing right now. And he had to keep his left hand clamped over the wound. It was difficult to operate his right hand to grasp the banister, but somehow he managed. Reaching the top, he turned to the right, only coming to a stop by the correct bedroom door.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. He took in the blond's form, slumped against the pillows. The wing was spread exactly as it had been left, and did not move or twitch at all. That must be an indication of how much pain Cloud was in. Usually the wing pulsated when he was angry or upset.

Cloud rolled his eyes. "Annoyed that I'm laid up," he said. "I could've stopped it, if I'd fought harder. They shouldn't have bested me."

"You really think you could have taken on two dozen thugs by yourself, and won?" Sephiroth grunted. "Honestly, Cloud, even I know my limits."

Cloud glowered at the quilt. "It wouldn't be any problem for you to blast your way through them," he said. "And even just fighting with your sword, you're better and quicker than me."

"I can't imagine how you can be quick at all, when you have to throw so much energy into just lifting your weapon," Sephiroth said, his voice dry.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Cloud crossed his arms, glaring at the wall.

At that moment Zack returned with the kit. "Send me on a chase all over the house, will ya?" he exclaimed. "You weren't where I left you!"

"I figured you'd know I came up here," Sephiroth returned.

"I did," Zack said. "But that doesn't mean you're off the hook!" He was trying to joke, but his heart was not in it.

And Sephiroth could tell. He gave the vaguest shake of his head, a signal for Zack to not keep trying. When Zack was feeling so downhearted, putting on a facade was just too much of a strain for him. Sephiroth did not want to see him like that.

Zack got the message. That was Seph, always trying to look out for him. Gingerly he pulled back the ragged part of his shirt, biting his lip as he looked at the wound again. "It looks pretty deep, Seph," he said, unwrapping an antiseptic wipe. He unfolded it, dabbing its surface across the gash.

Sephiroth did not give any indication that it stung. His expression remained impassive as Zack worked. In his mind he was turning over this grim event again. Was Hojo still at the abandoned castle, using it as his base? What was hiding beyond its walls?

It would not have been difficult for him to obtain a DNA sample during the time he had held Sephiroth captive. A fallen feather would work just fine, and during the many beatings, there had been more than one growth that had come loose. And from that had come not only the clone who had saved Zack and Cloud, but this one he had just fought.

Could there be many clones? What would Hojo be planning to do with them?

Zack frowned as he took the cloth away from the wound. "There's still some of Merlin's herbal paste stuff," he said, reaching for the bottle in the first aid kit. "You'll need it, Seph."

Sephiroth grunted, but did not refuse.

Cloud turned, watching as Zack spread some of the paste over the injury with care. He wanted to stay awake, but his eyes were growing so heavy. . . . He slumped into the pillow, pulling it close to him.

_It's going to get worse before it gets better._

Well, that was a great thing to be thinking right before passing out. But with their luck, it was true.

He sighed, his eyes closing.

Now Zack was wrapping Seph's shoulder in the gauze. Seph watched him in silence, the upper wing twitching every now and then. When Zack was finished, he stepped back.

"I guess that's another coat shot," he said with a weak grin, eying the sleeve he had torn off and the blood staining the nearby fabric.

"I'll probably have to make more soon," Sephiroth said in sarcasm.

"How about leaving those things off the next batch?" Zack asked, poking the sewn bat wings on the sleeves.

"They're trademarks now," Sephiroth grunted.

"Your hair and wings are trademarks," Zack chirped. "And wearing black."

"Heh." Sephiroth inspected the bandages himself, running a careful hand over them. "I'll think about it."

"Good!" Zack said. "That's all I'm asking. What do you think, Cloud?"

No response.

Zack frowned in concern, turning to look. "Cloud?!" he exclaimed.

Sephiroth looked as well, narrowing his eyes. "He's swooned again," he realized.

That seemed to be true. Still, Zack needed to run over and make sure that all was well! After the night they had been having, it would not be a surprise if something was horribly wrong. But Zack would never get over it, and Seph likely would not, either.

He limped to the side of the bed, placing his hands on the mattress as he leaned forward. Cloud's chest slowly rose and fell as he breathed.

The brunet let out a sigh of relief tinged with sadness, slumping back.

They were all alive. Banged up pretty bad, but still alive.


	2. We Shouldn't Speak to You

**Notes: Here is where having read **_**Memento Mori**_** would be helpful. Not necessary, but helpful. And yes, it actually is possible for it to seem like pain increases (or at least to not **_**de**_**crease) after applying something warm to sooth it. At least it's been that way for me, but maybe I'm just the odd one out. Thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help!  
**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**We Shouldn't Speak to You**

_Cloud found himself falling through the sky. The puffy clouds rushed past, the trees and the ground getting closer and closer. He was not going to come out of this safely. If he could not pull himself up, he would _die_. He spread his wing, but it was still stiff. Trying to flap it was only making it throb. What was going on?! This was supposed to be a dream, wasn't it? He should be able to fly on it, unlike in reality. Instead he was plunging down, down . . . right to where a frozen pond was underneath him. A too-familiar frozen pond. He had seen it in another dream._

_"What the . . . ?!" He never finished his exclamation. He hit the surface, the ice shattering under his weight. The water was as frosty as the ice as he went under. He reached up, clawing at the liquid. His blood ran cold. Was this what Sephiroth had felt, when he had woke up, falling through the ice?_

_No! He would get out of this. He moved his arms in desperation, kicking his legs as well. His wing was dead weight. But he never moved higher or lower. It was like swimming through Jell-O. Or maybe that was just how it seemed, because his limbs were getting so numb. There was no sensation in his arms now, and his legs were not faring much better. And his very blood was so cold._

_He was being frozen alive._

Blue eyes flew open. Cloud gasped, staring up at the ceiling high above him. He was still cold, still freezing. Had he kicked off the quilt again? He reached out, groping for the soft material. There it was, down by his legs. He started to pull it up.

A frown crossed his features. What was he doing? He was laying in bed. He was not freezing to death.

But . . . the dream had been so real! He had been falling, drowning . . . !

The color drained from his face. It was the same location that he had seen in his other dream, the one about Sephiroth crashing through the ice. Cloud had tried to save him, and then . . . then he had died. . . .

He had not forgotten that nightmare. It had only come a week or more ago, and he, Sephiroth, and Zack still could not figure out what it could mean, if it meant anything at all. Now, for him to dream of that scene again, with himself being the one to die this time. . . .

_What was the explanation?_

Would they both be killed? Was there a chance it would be one or the other? Both of them had been beat up tonight, really, but if the dream was symbolic and had been referring to tonight, why would he even have it? It seemed more likely that it was something still to come.

Or maybe he was stupid for believing that anything at all would come of it. It was just two random dreams about crashing through ice and freezing to death. Oh yeah, happened every day. Nothing strange or out of the ordinary about it, especially when he wasn't afraid of drowning or freezing alive. Even though he _had_ almost drowned once, it had not made him fear the water. And being frozen was a method of dying he had never before considered in the least.

He made a face. All this thinking about death and doom was annoying. And his neck was getting kinked from laying on his back. Maybe he should try to turn onto his side. On the other hand, maybe that would just make his rib hurt, even if he moved onto the opposite side.

"Awake, huh?"

He turned his head to the side, while keeping his body in place. Sephiroth was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and his wings unfolded, as usual. His lower right wing was held close against him, while the other two hung naturally from their sockets. His long silver hair flowed down his back, while the bangs partially concealed his eyes. Maybe he wanted it that way. A flicker of pain passed over his features. He would not want it to be seen.

Cloud frowned. "You're hurt," he mumbled.

"Yes, I know," Sephiroth grunted. "A stab wound to the shoulder generally has that effect."

Cloud rolled his eyes. "I mean besides that. Your wing."

"It will be fine." Sephiroth's tone did not leave room for arguments.

Cloud leaned further into the pillows. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear a scream---pain-filled, anguished---Sephiroth's scream. And that had not happened during the fight with that clone thing.

". . . You got hurt saving me," he realized.

A silence. "I said my wing will be fine."

Cloud turned away, focusing on the wall. "I didn't want anyone to get hurt because of me," he muttered.

". . . That's what happens when people care about others, Cloud. They get hurt. But if they manage to save the ones in trouble, they don't care about their own infirmities."

"But the people being saved care!" Cloud shot back.

He froze. What a weird conversation they were having. Had he really just said that? Had_Sephiroth_ really said what he just had? This was the first time they had been in a dire predicament since being forced to admit to their friendship. He had not thought about how it would change their reactions.

A vague smirk came over Sephiroth's features. He seemed to have come to the same conclusion that Cloud had. "Strange, isn't it."

"More like bizarre." Cloud allowed himself to smirk as well.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Where's Zack?"

"I insisted he get some sleep."

"Good deal, if he really does."

"You know Zack."

"He's probably wide awake, staring at the ceiling or something."

"You were pale when you woke up." Sephiroth abruptly changed the subject, giving Cloud a sidelong glance. "And I don't think it was altogether from the beating."

Cloud sighed now. Ordinarily, he would refuse to talk about what had happened. But he was so tired. And what if there really was something to be concerned about? After a second dream, there really was cause to wonder. Not that there had not been cause before.

". . . Remember when I busted the mirror last week?" he said.

"Yes," Sephiroth said dryly. "Seven years of bad luck, according to the superstitious. We hardly need any more than we already have."

A vague smirk passed over Cloud's features before he sobered again. ". . . I had another weird dream," he mumbled. "This time I fell in the pond from the sky. And I died too."

Sephiroth frowned. Cloud would not speak of this unless he was distressed to an extreme degree. And weary. He had actually thought he would not hear of the dream again---at least not unless a time came when it seemed to be being fulfilled. Whoever was bestowing the dreams must be growing impatient.

"You seem to be attracting odd dreams lately," he commented.

"Tell me about it." Cloud made a face. "On second thought, don't. I tell myself about it a lot these days."

Sephiroth pushed himself away from the wall. "We never did determine whether its meaning is literal or symbolic," he said. He walked over to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. Slowly he sank onto the edge of the mattress, favoring his left side and allowing his wing to stretch out. Strange, how such a simple action was such a large indication of what had changed between the two of them.

"I don't get what it means if it's symbolic," Cloud grumbled. "Unless it's that we're walking on thin ice because of this whole stupid problem with the wing prejudice, and we already know that."

"It would seem strange," Sephiroth conceded. "And unnecessary."

"Yeah, exactly." Cloud frowned. "And if it's literal, then what? We have to stay away from the ice-rink?"

"Not that we would ever go there in the first place." Sephiroth's voice was dripping sarcasm.

"I wonder what would happen if Zack tried to get us to go . . . if there wasn't any danger, I mean. Would we say Yes, just to humor him?"

"Probably, if he kept at it enough." Sephiroth imagined he would not be such a bad skater. He had perfect balance. Possessing the wings had only added to his equilibrium skills, as well. But he was not interested in engaging in any activity that would not be directly beneficial. Ice-skating sounded like a waste of time.

"But we wouldn't say Yes a second time," Cloud put in.

"No," Sephiroth agreed, "we wouldn't. And Zack would know it."

Cloud smirked, then sighed, running a hand down his face. "So . . . what do we do about this stupid dream thing? It looks like it's not going to go away."

"Is there really anything to do except to keep it in mind?" Sephiroth returned. "There aren't any ponds near our house."

"Yeah. . . . Probably a good thing," Cloud said dryly.

He ran a hand over his eyes. ". . . Why do you think they jumped me tonight?" he asked. "I mean, why now more than any other time? This stupid prejudice thing has been going on for months. We've never been attacked before."

Sephiroth frowned. "They didn't act as if there was any specific reason for it," he said. "They just seemed to want to cause any winged being pain and anguish. We've known it would come to this, if we kept being hated. And it's hard to say whether the police or even the military would or could do anything for us. I'm technically supposed to be dead, for one thing. And we can't explain to them why I'm alive again."

"Maybe they wouldn't ask," Cloud mumbled. But it sounded stupid as soon as he said it.

"Oh, they'd ask." Sephiroth crossed his arms. "We've received the short end of the stick.

"We're outcasts, Cloud."

Cloud frowned too. He knew it, of course. Both of them had been such for years. He had felt like an outcast ever since he had left following Hollow Bastion's destruction. And that had not changed after returning. It seemed to have only intensified. It was not really a surprise, after the dark road he had walked, but it was not a happy thing to discover, either. Most people had no idea what he had been through, but were wary of him because of the wing alone. It was the same for Sephiroth, as well. And hearing that Sephiroth was connected with Cloud in some way made them all the more suspicious.

". . . And God help us, right?" he said.

"He might not. This may be a consequence of our past actions." Sephiroth twitched a wing in emphasis as he spoke. "It may be something we're meant to endure."

Cloud grunted. "Is it easier for you to think we're doomed or something?"

Sephiroth shrugged. "I don't want to give in to foolish fantasies," he said. "I suppose in a sense it's easier." He smirked. "It's better than fully believing all will be well, and then being dragged back to earth with the realization that it never will be."

"Heh." Cloud was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. ". . . Or maybe you hate yourself so much that you think you aren't worthy of anyone's help, especially God's," he remarked. "That it's close to blaspheme or something to even consider it." And he narrowed his eyes. Where had that come from? Was this the night to say weird things, even to psycho-analyze the great Sephiroth? What had that knock on the head done to him?

Sephiroth continued to smirk, gazing off at the opposite wall. "Maybe I do." He turned a bit, regarding Cloud in curiousness. "What about you, Cloud? Do you think it's blaspheme?"

Cloud frowned down at the quilt. "It's not like I'd be a good judge of that," he retorted. "I'm not a religious kind of person."

"Well, I certainly am not." Sephiroth's smirk was now clearly self-depreciating.

Cloud snorted, then fell silent. When he began to speak again, he chose his words with care.

" . . . I think that, if you're an honest person trying to do what's right, it wouldn't be blaspheme to ask for help. I mean, none of us are perfect, right? God's supposed to be happy to hear from us."

Sephiroth leaned back. "Yes, but not everyone goes on frenzied rampages, murdering out of hate and not sparing the innocent."

It was hard to know what to say to that. That was Sephiroth's main problem right there---he could not forgive himself for what he had done. And he felt that he could never make up for it, since he could never bring back the lost lives or repair the hearts of the wounded.

"You just . . . really lost yourself." Cloud's voice was quiet. He could have been talking about either of them, though he had never taken a life in such a way. But he could have. He had come very close to that path more than once. Sora had saved him . . . and Sephiroth had, too. "All the stuff you'd seen, the injustice of everything . . . you just . . . couldn't take it." He shook his head.

"That doesn't make it right."

"I know that, but . . ." Cloud looked into the veiled green eyes. Who knew what Sephiroth was thinking back there? He seemed relatively docile at the moment. For him, this was a normal conversation.

"If you weren't a good person, what you did wouldn't bother you," he said at last. "And that's not just me getting stuck with Zack's optimism, it's the truth." And then he smirked. "Besides, if you weren't a good person, one of us would be dead right now. Probably me."

"Oh?"

Cloud nodded. "You would've killed me some night when I was caught up in hating you. Because I'd be too stupid to know what to do to beat you."

"Or maybe we would have killed each other in a fit of abhorrence."

"Possible." Cloud smirked again, somewhat ruefully. "If Zack came in and heard us right now, he wouldn't be happy."

"Can you blame him? It isn't really a pleasant subject." Sephiroth leaned back, gazing off into the distance. His body was still on the bed, but his mind was wandering somewhere far away. Still spread on the mattress, the left wing suddenly twitched.

Cloud watched it for a moment. He wanted to deny the flicker of fascination in his mind. It was silly, to be looking at a _wing_, especially when he had one too. But sometimes it just seemed so unreal, that these things were attached to their bodies, that they were capable of moving on their own because of nerves or emotions or whatever. And flying . . . that was just crazy, to know that they could take to the skies, soaring over the cities and mountains like birds. Only they were not like birds at all.

Why would they have been given wings? It was not a human's place, to fly. And the townspeople mostly thought they were monsters. Maybe it was true, that the wings were a punishment for what they had done. What if they had been given the extra limbs as proof that they were monsters, like Sephiroth often thought? It was actually pretty hard not to think something like that, especially considering the circumstances from which their wings had sprouted.

"If I was judged by a divine court," Sephiroth spoke without warning, "wouldn't they have been under the direction of God?"

Cloud started, looking up at him. Sephiroth was still not facing him. With crossed arms he studied the wall some more, as if there was nothing more fascinating to examine.

"I . . . guess so," Cloud replied then, a bit surprised by the sudden musing.

Sephiroth nodded. "Then it was God Who wanted me to have these wings."

Cloud blinked. ". . . If you put it like that, then yeah, it looks that way." He frowned. "But did they actually tell you you'd get them?"

"No. I regained consciousness with them having grown from my back." Sephiroth finally turned to look at Cloud. "My battle wounds were healed. I don't even have the faintest scar from that sword, Cloud, and it impaled me all the way through. I knew they were going to mend that damage, so I've always assumed that when they were doing that, they altered my body's workings so that the wings would grow naturally."

Cloud gave a slow nod. "It doesn't tell me where my wing came from, but it sounds logical."

"I thought you felt your wing came from your own dark feelings," Sephiroth commented.

"I did. I do," Cloud hurried to correct himself. "But it sounds crazy."

"This whole situation is crazy, Cloud." Sephiroth gave a grim smirk. "Do you think Hades cast a spell on you?"

Cloud frowned. "No . . . not really. I remember considering it, but then I was sure it was me."

"Maybe it was. A guilty conscience?"

"Something like that." Cloud sighed. "Probably doesn't really matter. It's here, and it's not going away, so I'll just have to deal with it."

Sephiroth nodded. ". . . If we did get to the point where we prayed for help, what do you think would happen?" he mused, sounding as though he was more curious than anything else.

"Who knows." Cloud shrugged. "I don't think it would hurt anything. But we should try to figure out a solution first, if there's one to even find."

"God helps those who help themselves, eh?" Sephiroth smirked, in complete agreement with the saying. "And what if there isn't any solution?"

"Then we're doomed?"

"I don't doubt it."

"Pessimist."

"I believe the definition of this would be the pot calling the kettle black."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes."

Cloud leaned into the pillows, smirking up at his former enemy and recent best friend. Undoubtedly there was still going to be trouble, possibly as soon as tomorrow. But for a little while tonight, they could relax with their banter. Hopefully Zack was getting some well-needed rest.

* * *

Zack happened to be wide awake. He had dozed briefly, but then had woke back up again when a stabbing pain shot right into his dreams. In the nightmare, he was being shot again, Hojo's maniacal laughter echoing off the walls of his mind. Upon starting awake, he had found his leg throbbing. And so he was sitting up in his bed, wearily massaging the limb. 

It had been hurting more tonight than he had let on, of course. And applying a hot water bottle in bed had not helped a great deal. It was weird, but sometimes it seemed that stuff like that could make the thing hurt worse. There were nights when he could not get to sleep at all unless he took a painkiller, but he tried to make sure that such occasions were not frequent. The last thing he wanted to do was to get hung up on some drug.

He would be lying to himself if he did not admit that there had been times when he had been angry over his injury. If it never healed, he would not be able to serve in active combat again. And he abhorred the thought of a desk job. He had joined the military to protect people, and to be involved, not to do paperwork. But his physical therapist still had hope. If he would just _not do so many strenuous things_, then maybe it would have the chance it needed to repair the rest of the damage. Fighting a bunch of crazed thugs, even throwing them over his shoulder, would probably be classified as strenuous. Yet, what could he do, when his friends were in trouble? He refused to stand by and watch them be hurt.

He tried to be optimistic most of the time. In general, he actually felt that way. And he never complained, at least not openly---only now and then in his mind, when he found himself unable to do something he once could have accomplished with ease. Sometimes he made jokes about it, to help him deal with the problem.

Seph was crippled, in a way. Zack had never heard Seph say anything in the way of a complaint over his wing's deformity. He had learned to live with it. But it bothered him, even still. Zack could see it in his eyes, when he had to land sooner than he wanted, or needed, or when it was just hurting like heck.

Secretly, Zack wished that they could both be healed. But that seemed unlikely. At any rate, his leg sure wouldn't get better, if he kept attacking creeps like he had done tonight. He could just hear his therapist scolding him for it.

He yawned, leaning away from his leg as he placed his hands on his back. It wasn't feeling so great tonight, either. He stretched, keeping his hands in place as the muscles cracked and popped.

What was that, over there by the wall? He turned, unable to control a second yawn as he looked. And then his mouth hung open in mid-intake of air as he stared with amazement. If he was not yawning, he might very well have yelped out of shock and alarm. A transparent form was emerging from it, intent on heading over to Zack. But the fact that a spirit had just entered was not even what Zack found eerie. It was the fact of how it looked so much like Seph. Identical, in fact, except that the lower right wing was not bent. And the hair was pulled back into a sweeping ponytail, courtesy of a red hair tie. Only the bangs were free, brushing against the firm cheeks.

"Who the heck are you?!" Zack gasped, swallowing the air he had inhaled. After the experience tonight, seeing another Seph look-alike was especially unsettling. What did this one want?

The spectre stopped near the bed, a funny smile playing on its lips. "You don't remember me?" it asked, in a voice that was all at once just like Seph's and yet not like him at all. It was softer, younger, but still carried a heavy burden and was very kind.

Zack's eyes widened. He knew. Somehow he just knew. "Hey," he cried in realization, "it's you!" The "failed" clone that Hojo had created, that he had wanted to use for destruction---the one who had instead sacrificed himself to save Zack and Cloud.

The clone nodded. "I never had the chance to apologize," he said, not taking his gaze from Zack.

"Apologize?" Zack repeated in disbelief.

"For putting you and Cloud through so much agony, thinking that Sephiroth was dead."

Zack blinked, the surprise manifesting itself in his lavender eyes. But then a soft smile came over his features. "Hey," he said, "if it wasn't for you, Cloud and I might really be dead, and poor Seph would be in agony."

The clone nodded again. "But I . . . wasn't able to stop what happened tonight," he murmured.

Zack shook his head. "None of us could," he said, anger seeping into his tones. This was not, however, what he wanted to speak of with his visitor right now.

"How are you?" he exclaimed. "I mean . . . did you get to go to an afterlife or anything like that?" Surely the poor guy would not be doomed to wander, just because his creation had been artificial. He had just as much of a soul as any of the rest of them.

"I did," was the answer. "I was given a choice. I could stay there all the time, or I could be here for part of the time, watching over the three of you. I chose the latter." He gave Zack a thoughtful look. "I still wanted to know what it felt like, and what it meant, to live."

"Yeah?" Zack smiled a bit once more. It was great to see the clone again, and to know that he was doing alright. At least something was going right for somebody.

"I think I know, at least in part." Green eyes focused on Zack. "To live . . . one has to have people who will care. And they have to care about those people."

Zack's smile turned melancholy. "That's a big part of it, alright," he agreed.

"Hey," he realized, "if you're gonna be around, you need a name. I can't just keep thinking of you as 'the clone' all the time."

"I was given a name, by Merlin," said the clone. "He calls me 'Aeolus', after the Greek god of wind."

"Hey," Zack grinned, "that fits. Can't just give any name to a Seph clone, like George or Fred or something."

Aeolus smirked, showing a smidgeon of the dry humor he had inherited from the one whose DNA he possessed. But then he sobered again.

"I also came to warn you," he said.

Zack frowned. "You know about something else that's going to go wrong?" he asked.

A nod. "Hojo has created many clones, but the one that came here tonight is his pride and joy. It is carrying out the assignment I refused to accept." Aeolus's eyes narrowed. "Hojo calls it the Master Clone."

"'Master Clone' . . ." Zack repeated. That title alone was ominous. "So what's the thing up to? Just to hurt Seph?" He gripped a handful of quilt. "It's already done that now. It doesn't have to do any more!" But of course it would . . . if it was still alive. And Aeolus did not look like he felt it to be dead.

"It wants to hurt him, yes, but not only physically." Aeolus hesitated, as if this was something he was not supposed to reveal.

"What is it?!" Zack burst out. "Come on, now you've got me worried!"

Aeolus shook his head. "I don't understand all of it myself," he said. "I haven't heard them speak of this plan, but I can . . . I don't know how to explain it, but I can feel it. I can almost reach out and touch the wickedness as it's made manifest." He held out a hand in emphasis, gesturing to indicate grasping something landing across his palm. "Maybe it's because I'm connected with the other clones. We were all born from the same source, a feather taken from Sephiroth. I . . . I can sense some of what they're feeling and experiencing."

Zack swallowed. This was not good. ". . . What's the Master Clone feeling right now?" he asked. "Seph stabbed him clean through!"

Aeolus paused, gathering his senses about him. "He's . . . laying on a metal slab," he said slowly, "somewhere in Hojo's headquarters. He's alive . . . badly hurt . . . but mostly angry. But he's also reveling in the fact that he hurt Sephiroth and brought pain to you."

"That's sick!" Zack could not help exclaiming.

Aeolus nodded, but looked somewhat sad. "He was never as lucky as I," he said. "Most of the clones don't question who or what they are, or what they're supposed to do. That's what Hojo wants from them."

"It's not an excuse," Zack protested. "They've got minds, right? They could've chosen something better, like you did!"

"I know," Aeolus said. "And I'm angry for what they're doing, make no mistake about that. But I can't help feeling a certain pity, too. They'll never learn the meaning of life, of living."

Zack finally nodded as well. "That's true," he acknowledged, his tone slow. The hardness crept back in. "I guess it's harder for me to feel anything for them, after what the Master Clone did tonight, and knowing that you broke away from Hojo's plans. I just wonder why they can't, too."

"I wish they could," Aeolus sighed. "I'm not giving up hope. There must be others such as I."

He glanced up, hearing something that Zack apparently could not. "And now I have to go," he said. "But I'll come back."

And then he was gone. A ghost of a feather floated to the floor in his wake, and promptly vanished as well.

Zack was left staring, trying in vain to process everything he had been told. Now there were more questions than answers. And the answers floating through his mind were not pleasant. He slumped back into the pillow, gazing up at the ceiling. Master Clones . . . clones in general . . . some plan to hurt Seph in ways other than physically. . . .

The pain in his leg was forgotten, replaced by an agony far greater.

* * *

The pounding on the front door the next morning sent Zack starting awake and nearly falling to the floor. He threw back the covers, a hand flying to his equally pounding head as he groped for his cane. "Alright already!" he exclaimed, easing his body upright as he limped across the room and into the hall. The rapping below never ceased or slowed. And both Cloud's and Seph's doors were shut. Wow, were they really sleeping through this racket? Zack shook his head, making his way to the stairs. 

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he muttered. "Give a guy a chance to get there, will ya?" Hobbling down the rest of the stairs, he moved swiftly to the door and threw it open. The sight of a concerned Leon standing on the porch, along with Yuffie, made him stop and stare. Obviously Yuffie had been responsible for the knocking. Her hand was raised, her fist clenched as if to go right ahead and pound some more. Leon had his arms folded, and a newspaper could be seen dangling from his right hand.

"What's going on?" Zack demanded. "You wouldn't be waking a guy up at this hour for nothing." The clock he had passed had proclaimed it was seven in the morning. And since it was deep into winter, it was still dark outside. Up and down the block, houses had their lights on.

"There's something really bad going down!" Yuffie cried. "Show him the paper, Leon."

Leon held it out. "There was a fire started last night," he said grimly, "in the merchant's district. A lot of damage was done, but the owner got out alive. And there's only one clue to the culprit."

Zack stared at the paper. His cane almost tumbled from his hand.

_Blue Feather Found At Crime Scene!_

_Is The Mysterious Sephiroth Showing His True Colors?_

"No," Zack said, his voice cracking.

Hojo's clones were beginning their assault.


	3. The Mercy We Don't Find

**Notes: Kala-Ansa and Sun are mine! And Aeolus, of course. Thanks to Kaze for plot help!  
**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**The Mercy We Don't Find**

She was at her usual place, seated at her desk in her home office, with a view of Hollow Bastion out her window. The morning paper had been placed in front of her, and she was studying it, her dark brown eyes narrowed in thoughtfulness. Her raven hair, pulled back in a tight bun, gave her a no-nonsense appearance. And that was what she liked. As one of Hollow Bastion's leading citizens, she wanted to always look the part.

She had been a great help to the land in its time of need. Having become wealthy in another world, she had suddenly returned when Hollow Bastion was being rebuilt. She was always very generous, or at least she appeared so; she was most willing to share her munny with certain people in power, such as the mayor. All they had to do in return was to use it the way she decreed. Even if they did not like her stipulations, there was often not much that they could do. They needed munny, and she had it---and with Hollow Bastion still getting on its feet, there were not many who possessed currency in such quantities as Kala-Ansa.

Some believed that she was lonely, after the death of her husband in the Heartless attack ten years earlier. But she was not, or at least, she told it to herself. She had occupied her life with three main things since that fateful day---her eleven-year-old daughter Sun, taking her husband's business to another world and making it successful, and eradicating all threats to wherever she and Sun lived. She had become obsessed with destroying the Heartless, foul creatures that they were! And now that they were nearly vanquished, she had turned her attention to another problem.

There were many in Hollow Bastion who despised the rare humans bearing wings. As far as they could tell, no one was born with the feathery appendages, and those who possessed them had only acquired them later in life. And that meant that they must be devils! So was the argument, and Kala-Ansa certainly did not disagree. They were monsters. The news article in front of her only served to further prove this. The feather recovered from the crime scene could not be a coincidence. Sephiroth, the wretch, had burned the merchant's store! He had always behaved suspiciously. This was the proof of the evil spirit within that abnormal body!

And who was he, anyway? She knew of General Sephiroth, the great leader of Hollow Bastion's armies. He had gone Missing in Action several years ago. And then this strange, winged creature had appeared, claiming to be him. He certainly looked the part. But the wings . . . ! Sephiroth never would have stood for having _wings._ He had always prided himself on his appearance. Not to mention the strange way this winged version had used to claim that he was Cloud Strife. Why would General Sephiroth do such a thing?

Perhaps he was a dark spectre or doppelganger of the General. Or maybe instead of being Missing in Action, maybe he had been killed, and now was a dark angel. Rumors had circulated that he had hated the opposing armies and had cut down innocent civilians as well as the enemies in the military. He would have surely been punished if such a thing was true. There were other whispers, that he was alive yet had been horribly experimented on, but Kala-Ansa ruled out such outlandish ideas. No mortal could place wings on a normal human being.

Of course, Sun believed that the prejudice was ridiculous, and that Cloud and Sephiroth were both victims, not villains. But that was only because she was too naive to know any better. Her mother had forbade her to have anything to do with either one of them. Knowing her, she probably wanted to seek them out and see what they were really like. And then who knew what would happen to her. No, Kala-Ansa was not going to lose her daughter to those devils.

She stood up, crossing to the window and looking out at the city, bathed in morning light. Though it was still early, and the temperature was very bitter, protesters could be seen marching up and down the streets. Their signs had statements such as _"Death to winged beings!"_ and _"Exterminate the devils!"_ Because of the shop having been burned, they were coming out in droves.

But most of them hated the winged people blindly, because others hated them. They believed what they heard, without researching the truth. Kala-Ansa had researched it.

The truth was that the dragons and the fire creatures seemed attracted to the avian humans. They were likely the reason that Hollow Bastion was being invaded.

The truth was that the darkness always destroyed. The Heartless had been dark beings, and they had torn apart the entire land, slaughtering countless amounts of people. Wings on humans symbolized the darkness. If the winged beings were not eradicated, they would become the next Heartless. Possibly even more devastating. Sephiroth's powers were well-known.

Fire was his favorite.

Of course, the law enforcement could not arrest him because he could control fire. Or because of one feather. But they were going to question him. They might be at his home now. He lived with the current general of the armies, Zack Fair. And that other winged demon, Cloud Strife, was there as well. As far as Kala-Ansa was concerned, Commander Fair was just as bad as the other two. To associate with such creatures, to consider them his _best friends_, meant that he was wicked. He would shun them as the plague if he was the upright person most believed him to be.

The jangling of the telephone startled her back to the present. With a frown she turned, walking with swift steps back to her desk. She lifted the receiver, placing it to her ear. "Yes?" she said in her cool way.

"Ms. Kala-Ansa, I am calling as you requested."

She recognized her secretary's voice. "Have you seen whether they've interrogated the arsonist?" she demanded.

"The police went to Commander Fair's house, Ms. Kala-Ansa," was the answer. "I couldn't hear what was being said, but they came out without him or anyone else."

The brown eyes narrowed. She had expected it. She was furious to know that she was right, but not surprised.

"S-so, I listened to the officers talking outside," the secretary stammered. "They said something about Cloud Strife being really badly hurt and him claiming a mob did it. Commander Fair and Sephiroth both agreed. And Sephiroth was wounded too." She paused, uncomfortable. Her employer would not like what else had been said. "He . . . he said someone who looked just like him---a clone---stabbed him. Commander Fair thinks that clone, or another one, started the fire."

Kala-Ansa gripped the phone. "And the police believe such tripe?"

"No . . ." The young woman hesitated again. "They were all laughing about it."

"They think Sephiroth lied to them and yet they won't do anything to arrest him?" Kala-Ansa was indignant. No, she was more than that. She was outraged.

"They . . . they said one feather didn't convict him. And that it wasn't logical to think he would have gone out and burned the store after being hurt like he was."

"That's ridiculous!" Kala-Ansa spoke with vehemence, yet did not raise her voice. "He was probably stabbed after the fire. Maybe someone saw him escaping and wounded him."

"No one like that has come forward, Ms. Kala-Ansa," the secretary said slowly. She would rather work for anyone else. Kala-Ansa's intensity and zealousness frightened her. But she had had a struggle getting a job as it was. Her father said it was a miracle that she had landed this one, with it being so well-paid. And so she had stayed.

"Of course not!" Kala-Ansa retorted. "Sephiroth would have killed such a person. Keep track of any new missing persons reports. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Ms. Kala-Ansa." A pause. "Is there . . . anything else?"

"No. Back to your normal duties." The telephone was replaced.

Kala-Ansa leaned back in her chair, lacing and clasping her fingers. If the police were going to throw aside the idea that Sephiroth was the guilty party, or at least, to not focus on it as much as they should, then she would take matters into her own hands. She had known she would need to, before even learning of the interrogation results. But it still angered her that the police were not doing all they should. She would go there and visit Sephiroth, as well as Cloud Strife and Commander Fair. She would see exactly what kind of evil went on in their home, and when she had the evidence, she would see that they all suffered.

* * *

Zack was furious. He had known the police would be coming for questioning. That had been inevitable, after that crummy news article on the front page. But the officers who had been sent had not taken it seriously. At least they did not believe Seph was guilty.They felt that the people blaming him were all idiots. However, they also did not believe that Seph had been attacked by a clone of himself. Zack had heard them laughing about it once they had gone out the door. 

"You wouldn't expect them to believe that, would you?"

He looked over as Seph entered the room. How like him, to recognize the subject on which Zack was focused. But then, it was probably also on his own mind.

"No . . . but it still ticks me off," Zack said, leaning forward as he placed his hands on the top of his cane. "They didn't seem all that professional."

"It could have been worse." Sephiroth crossed his arms.

"I know. . . . But the clones'll keep burning stuff down if they're not stopped! And the police won't do anything about it!" Zack gripped the cane. "I don't want to see more people suffer, and you getting blamed for it. If it keeps happening, they might figure there's no choice but to take you in. Somebody will see the fires being started, and that it looks like you. . . ."

Sephiroth nodded. He had not planned on help from the official law enforcement. He would have to search for Hojo and his wretched clones. The problem was that the clones would likely not wait for him to heal before attacking again. It would be difficult for him to think of fighting them in his current condition, but how could he afford to stay low while his shoulder mended?

"This prejudice thing has been going on for months," Zack spoke, "and it's only got worse. I think I should try talking to General Mathews about it again."

Sephiroth frowned. "He didn't want to listen before." And Sephiroth had not liked the man for some time. Even before his death, he had noticed that Mathews seemed to give in to what the majority wanted. More often than not, the decisions were not beneficial in the end and everyone suffered. It was hard, too, to forget remarks such as _"This is such an inconvenience"_ when Sephiroth had perished trying to protect their people in battle. Sephiroth did not want anything to do with him.

"But after some mob attacked Cloud, he's gotta listen!" Zack protested. He let the cane sink against the side of the couch as he ran his hands through his hair. "I can't have my men start to investigate things without Mathews agreeing. Well, I _could_, but then I'd be up for court-martial," he said with a weak grin.

"Don't do that to yourself," Sephiroth said, shaking his head. "We don't need Mathews' help."

"There's only so much we can do on our own." Zack glanced out the window. "Mobs were protesting winged people earlier today. I saw it on the news. There were even a couple of riots the police had to break up." He looked back to his friend. "I'm worried, Seph. They might come here. We both know it's possible."

"If they do, they'll regret it." Sephiroth's tone was dark. He would fight them off to the fullest extent of his abilities. He had done his best to only injure the thugs the past night, instead of inflicting fatal attacks---but mostly because it would have been worse for Zack and Cloud if any had actually died. If the brutes had come after them again, Sephiroth might have been forced to kill them to protect the others. And the same thing would happen if any bloodthirsty mob came here.

It was hard, not to hate them, yet above all Sephiroth knew that if he did kill, it could not be with hatred as the driving force. He would not lose himself again.

Zack could see all of that reflected in Seph's eyes. He gave a slow nod. He was worried about his pals, both of them. What if some nut did come, and they found Cloud laying helpless upstairs? What if Zack and Sephiroth would not be able to help him? That was too horrible to think about.

"Maybe we should get away for a few days," he suggested, "just until you guys are better or something. . . ."

"And where would we go?" Sephiroth frowned. "Cloud shouldn't be moved, at least not by normal means, and I can't teleport us out unless there's a definite location where we could go."

Zack frowned too. "Yeah . . . and teleporting sure wore Cloud out last night," he said. It seemed like there was not any solution at all that was satisfactory!

"The police visit didn't help much, either," Sephiroth remarked, his tone dry.

The crisp knock at the door brought them both to attention. Their eyes narrowed as they turned to look at each other. Now what? Were the police coming back? Had they found some new evidence that would incriminate Seph for sure? Zack started to get up, gripping the cane as he limped to the door. One thing was certain---Seph should not answer it.

His eyes widened to see the raven-haired, stern-faced woman standing on the porch. She was recognizable from news reports and such---Kala-Ansa, local millionairess. She had helped fund the current mayor's recent campaign. Zack had never been quite sure what to think of her, even though he did not have any reason to doubt her sincerity.

"Commander Fair," she greeted. "We've never met, but I recognize you."

"Yeah," he said, "and you're Kala-Ansa. Never thought a big shot like you would be coming around here." He shrugged in a mock helpless way. "No politics in this place!"

She gave a single nod. "I read about the fire in today's paper."

"So did all of Hollow Bastion," Zack retorted, leaning on the door. What was her position on the subject? If she was against Seph, then he did not want to let her see inside the room.

"It must be hard for you, to have your friend suspected of this gross crime." Her voice was mostly sympathetic. But there was a note of frost, and that alone made Zack think she was not supportive of the winged people. And the fact that she was showing up out of the blue like this. The sympathy could be fake.

"It sure is." Zack never budged from the doorway. "Especially when he didn't do it."

"You'd feel that way, of course," she remarked, searching his lavender eyes with her piercing brown orbs.

Sephiroth frowned, listening to the exchange. He did not like the direction it was taking. And now he wanted to see this bold woman himself. Maybe he would be able to determine what she hoped to gain by coming.

He stepped forward, coming up behind Zack. "What do you want?" he asked, his own voice matching hers in its frosted tones.

She started, looking over at him. This was Sephiroth, then. He resembled his video footage, and yet at the same time he was entirely different. But one thing that came through very clearly was his no-nonsense attitude. He knew her visit was not a friendly one, though Commander Fair also seemed able to tell. They were both regarding her with suspicion, and Sephiroth's visage bore annoyance, too.

"Sephiroth." She spoke now, nodding to him in greeting. "I am Kala-Ansa. I hope you'll forgive my intrusion at this time. I've been torn on how I feel about the fire, specifically your part in it, and I came here in an attempt to ease my mind." She glanced to Commander Fair. "Our general of the armies puts such trust in you."

"Of course I do!" Zack broke in. Maybe she was trying to be polite, or only businesslike, but he was more indignant than anything else. The nerve of her!

"Has your mind been eased?" was all Sephiroth would say.

A frown crossed her features as she studied his form. He was very well-built and muscular, and from the video footage she had watched, he was also extremely agile. It would not be difficult for him to enact the fire using his teleportation powers, and then return to Commander Fair's home in the same manner. It could have taken a matter of seconds to set the blaze, plus the time taken for someone to see him and stab him in an attempt to stop him from getting away. Then there was the problem of where he would have disposed of the body. But she would find out.

No, her mind had not been eased at all. Her suspicions had grown by leaps and bounds.

"If you say you didn't leave the home, and Commander Fair verifies this, then I have no reason to doubt it," she said aloud.

"We were both here all night, after we returned with Cloud Strife." Sephiroth's silent gaze warned her not to defy him. He was not in the mood for it.

"Cloud was beat up by a gang of thugs," Zack chimed in. "It wouldn't surprise me any if they set the fire and put the feather there to throw blame on Seph. Some feathers could've come free when we were fighting them."

Kala-Ansa looked back to him. "I was under the impression that you were blaming a clone of Sephiroth's, Commander Fair," she said.

Zack narrowed his eyes. "And I still think that!" he hurried to add. "I'm sure of it. But if the police don't want to even try looking at that, there's other possibilities too. Those thugs should be brought in anyway, after what they did to Cloud!"

"Even if there was a clone here last night," Kala-Ansa mused, "why should there be more than one? That one likely was killed by Sephiroth before the fire was even started."

And what could Zack say to that? He could not tell where he had learned that there were many clones. Come to think of it, in all the commotion he had not yet told Seph or Cloud, either.

"Maybe he started it before he even came," Zack suggested. "It doesn't really matter how it happened. The truth's gonna come out."

Another nod. "Yes," Kala-Ansa agreed, "it will."

She began to turn away. "I wish all of you well, of course," she said. "It would be grievous if anything else happened to any of you, after all this. I see that Cloud Strife isn't even downstairs yet.

"Good day."

Zack glowered after her, moving to shut the door as she walked down the steps. "What kind of a person is she?" he exclaimed, once their voices would not be overheard. "She just barges over here, barely has any tact. . . . I mean, she comes to see you to 'ease her mind'?"

Sephiroth grunted. "It's possible that she could help us," he said, "with her influence in the city." His eyes narrowed. "But I wouldn't trust her."

Zack nodded. ". . . Hey, if Cloud's awake, I have something I need to tell you guys," he said now.

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow, watching as Zack turned to limp up the stairs. "He might be," he said, following after Zack. "I'm guessing he's too angry to sleep."

* * *

And he was right. Cloud was wide awake, glaring off at the opposite wall. He was feeling better than he had the previous night, in some ways. It was good to be more aware, but the pain intensifying was not good at all. At least last night he had been either too numb or too out of it to really feel the full seriousness of it. Now today he had been awakened by the arrival of the police, and they had come right upstairs to question him about what had happened. It was annoying, to say the least. 

They did believe that he had actually been attacked, so that was something. Not that they planned to really look into catching the creeps. They would probably just let the thugs run free, where they could stage another assault once they were healed. After all, why would the police care about putting any effort into arresting anyone whose _only_ known crime was harming the infamous winged beings?

Apathy was just as frustrating as outright hatred.

He turned his head to the side, studying his wing through half-open eyes. It still felt so stiff. Something had been done to it. Now he could see the vague traces of what almost looked like stitches. Ow. There was a memory of some idiot slicing the skin with a knife. So it had been that bad? Wonderful.

A quiet knock on the door brought his attention to the slab of wood. "Yeah?" he mumbled.

The door cracked open. "It's us," Zack announced, pushing it further aside as he and Seph went in.

Cloud looked them up and down, taking in their exhausted appearances. ". . . Who else was here?" he asked.

"How do you know anyone was?" Sephiroth returned.

Cloud shrugged. "I heard the knocking."

Zack sighed. "It was Kala-Ansa," he said. "You know, the rich widow?" He frowned. "Something's weird about her, though. She just showed up to see what she thought of Seph."

Cloud frowned too. "Well, great," he said, his voice dripping sarcasm. "That's just what we need---a stalker."

"She doesn't like me," Sephiroth said, his tone flat. "She didn't before she came, and it was even more obvious when she left, even though she was putting on an act of being polite."

"So she'll be another problem," Cloud muttered.

"She could be." Sephiroth crossed his arms. "Or just an irritation."

Zack slumped into a nearby chair. "How're you feeling, pal?" he asked, looking to Cloud.

Cloud shrugged. "Could be worse, I guess," he said. "I saw my wing's been sewn up."

"There wasn't a choice," Sephiroth said.

Cloud could hear from his tone of voice that he had been the one to complete the task. Sephiroth was quite skilled with a needle and thread, as odd as that seemed. But he made all of his coats himself. Though he used a sewing machine for most of the work, the arm decorations were stitched by hand.

"Well, whatever." Cloud glanced to it again. "Just as long as it heals okay."

"We'll just have to wait and see," Sephiroth answered.

Zack nodded. "So . . . last night something weird happened," he said.

"Tell us something we don't know," Cloud said sarcastically.

"This _is_something you don't know!" Zack protested. "I was laying awake in bed and this clone came through the wall. But he wasn't a bad one!" he rushed on, seeing Seph and Cloud both tensing. "He was the one who gave his life for you and me, Cloud."

Cloud froze. Of all things Zack could have told, that was what he had expected least of all. "But that clone's dead," was all he could think to say. Which was pretty stupid, he decided as soon as the words left his mouth.

"He sure is," Zack agreed, a trace of sadness in his voice. But then he smiled again. "He seems to be doing okay, though. He goes back and forth between the afterlife and hanging out in Hollow Bastion. Merlin even gave him a name---Aeolus."

"So he's been to Merlin before, but not here?" Cloud frowned. "What did he come for?"

"He wanted to warn us," Zack explained, sobering. "He said Hojo's got a whole bunch of these clone characters. And the one who showed up here last night is kinda like Hojo's pet project." He looked to Seph. "He's called the Master Clone. And he's still alive. Aeolus could sense him."

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. It was not really a surprise. Frustrating, but typical.

"Did he have any other information?" he asked.

"Not too much," Zack replied. "He can sense the other clones, and he says most of the rest, if not all, just follow Hojo blindly."

"Great." Cloud rolled his eyes. "The fun never stops."

He looked from Zack to Sephiroth. "So . . . what now?" he wondered.

"Now?" Sephiroth grunted. "I don't know that there is anything that can be done now. We'll just have to wait and see what happens. Maybe the clones won't do anything more at this point." He met Cloud's surprised eyes, then turned to Zack. "Now that Kala-Ansa was here, I've been thinking. This one fire alone may be enough to set things in motion for the time being. Hojo wouldn't want to move too fast. He would want to savor it."

Zack nodded. "Yeah . . . and it looks like it's already having a lot of results!" he exclaimed angrily. "All the crazy mobs and extra prejudice. . . ."

Cloud snorted. "I don't know why Hojo would wait," he said. "Wouldn't now be the best time to strike again, when we're hurt?"

"It seems like it," Sephiroth agreed. "But he might want the townspeople to take it from here. They're being manipulated just as much as us."

"Yeah!" Zack said, clenching a fist. "This whole thing must be a really sick game to him. Everybody in Hollow Bastion is an experiment!"

Cloud's eyes narrowed. "So he wants to see how they'll all react?" It did make sense, especially considering the reason why Hojo had nearly killed Zack last year. And that was just disgusting.

Sephiroth nodded. "But the problem with Hojo is that he's unpredictable," he said, the venom obvious in his voice. "Mad scientists are always coming up with diabolical twists. And there's always the chance that the clones really will lash out again before we're ready and able to fight them."

"The attack of the clones," Cloud mumbled in sarcasm. "Great."

Sephiroth sighed. "As I said, the only option there really is to wait and see."

"And get better," Zack threw in.

"The Master Clone will be getting better, too." Sephiroth gripped his arms. Was it possible that Hojo would have some way to accelerate the healing process of the clones? He would not want to wait for months for the Master Clone to recover, since it was his pet project. And he surely must have determined that there was a possibility of the Master Clone being wounded.

It had not seemed bothered by it a great deal, either. The fact that it had only stabbed Sephiroth in the shoulder meant that it must be planning many more assaults in the future. And then it had thrust the blade from its stomach and had teleported. Obviously it had a great deal of endurance.

"Well yay." Cloud slumped further into the pillows. "We've really got a lot to look forward to---clones torching the town, mobs torching us. . . ."

Sephiroth gave a grim smirk. "That's life."

Zack did not even have the strength to actively protest their pessimism.


	4. The Lost and Forgotten

**Notes: Many thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help!  
**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

**The Lost and Forgotten**

As it turned out, the clones waited for several days and then started a second fire in the merchant's district. Once again the occupants managed to survive, though one was badly burned and another was suffering from smoke inhalation. And the damage to the shop was astronomical. It would take immense quantities of both time and munny to repair the building and replace the destroyed merchandise. Time was something the owner possessed. Munny was not---not in the amounts he would need. The townspeople were incensed.

Both Sephiroth and Cloud were healing. Though Cloud was still experiencing pain from his rib, it was certainly not as bad as it had been a week ago. And Sephiroth was still treating his right arm and shoulder with care, not exerting them when possible. Currently he was walking through the town, though he really did not know why. It was certainly not an enjoyable experience anymore.

The people fixed him with harmful and cool glares when he passed. That was nothing new, though a couple of times he had felt small rocks striking him in the back. He suspected some of the youth, but whenever he turned there was no indication of the culprit.

Others, even the adults, resorted to name-calling. _"Filthy devil!"_ and _"Demonic winged creature!"_ were becoming commonplace, along with every variation thereof. Still others screamed things that were unrepeatable. Sephiroth had learned to block it all from his mind. There was no point in paying attention. Why bother to listen when fools spoke?

Of course, it was irritating anyway, no matter how he tried to ignore it. He preferred to stay as far away from all of them as possible.

It was while he was making his way past the mob that new and young voices drifted to his ears.

"You _like_ Sephiroth?! What's wrong with you?!"

That was the boy who stalked Cloud sometimes, the one who had spied on Sephiroth when he had been healing from the dragon's attack. They had not seen him around since Cloud had moved, though he had almost certainly continued to spy on them. But who was he talking to? Those friendly towards Sephiroth and Cloud were few and far in number. Sephiroth paused to hear more.

An unfamiliar voice answered. "I know he isn't like you say! You've even talked to him, and do you really think he's a cruel arsonist?!"

An uncomfortable pause. "'Course! He's a psychotic pyromaniac and probably a murderer!"

"You're a liar!"

The next sounds Sephiroth heard were punching, kicking, and struggling. As he rounded the corner, two children came into view. The boy was sprawled on the ground, engaged in shoving a blonde away from him. Fists were flying on both sides, though it seemed that the young spy was being bested.

Sephiroth frowned. He came forward, grabbing the second child under the arms as he pulled the flailing body back.

"Don't fight because of me," he grunted.

Both children froze. The boy gawked, scrambling up and glaring defensively.

"Were you spying on me?!" he snapped, raising a hand to his face in a vain attempt to conceal the black eye he had gained.

Sephiroth set the other child down. "What do you think?" he answered.

"You'd say you weren't," the boy grumbled, as the other whirled around to stare at the man.

Sephiroth was surprised. This was a girl. Her hair reached her shoulders and went slightly past. Her eyes were hazel, but closer to brown than green. Right now, her jacket, shirt, and jeans were a rumpled mess, and a red mark was forming on her left cheek, but she did not pay attention. She could only regard him in stunned silence.

"Well, now you've got your wish, Sun," the boy sneered.

Sun did not pay any attention to him. "You're Sephiroth!" she exclaimed.

The boy snorted. "You're hopeless," he declared. He turned, hurrying away from the scene. Now he just had to decide whether to tell his mother that Sun had punched him because he had bad-mouthed Sephiroth, or to say that Sephiroth himself had struck him. Even though punching someone in the face did not seem like Sephiroth's style.

If he was to be honest with himself, he also had doubts about his parents' view. Any time he had met Sephiroth, the man had done nothing like what his parents had claimed. They had said he hated to be bothered---which was true---and that he would harm anyone who got in his way---especially children. But he had never been the least bit violent, just stern. He had not behaved as though he wanted to hurt children, or anyone else---he just wanted to be left alone. Still, the boy felt that to be loyal to his parents, he had to promote their ideas.

Even though he did not feel good about it at all.

Sephiroth watched him flee, his eyes narrowed. It would not be surprising if he was planning some kind of mischief, as usual. And then he himself, Sephiroth, would end up involved in it.

He looked back to Sun. "Why did you get into a fight because of me?" he asked, crossing his arms.

Sun frowned. "Because Billy's just a jerk who doesn't know anything," she said. "He says his mom tells him you're evil. Well, my mom does too, but they don't have any proof of it!"

"And do you have any proof that I'm not?" Sephiroth responded.

"The only reason they believe it is because you've got wings," she said. "But wings don't make anyone evil!" She looked up at him. "I wanted to talk to you so I'd know more about what you really are like. I already know you're good!"

Sephiroth's expression did not change. Was she really so naive? A villain could hide behind a mask of being good---not that he especially thought he appeared to be good at all.

"I don't see that I've done anything extremely praise-worthy," he said. "What if I'm a wicked man pretending to be righteous?" Sometimes he made such comments while smirking in dark amusement, but now he was completely serious. He did not feel the least bit amused by this situation.

"Yeah, maybe," she said. "But you're not!"

She hesitated, shifting from one foot to the other. "You saved me once," she said in a quieter tone. "I know you didn't really know I was there, but it was that time when you killed a dragon that was going to go after a class on their field trip."

Ah. Yes, he remembered that. He had been minding his own business, sitting in the sunlight at the Dark Depths, when he had heard the dragon roar below. When he had looked over the cliff's edge, he had seen the beast bearing down on a frightened teacher trying to protect her pupils.

He had not really wanted to get involved. No one was ever grateful for his interference, anyway. Usually they believed that one danger had been destroyed only to be replaced by another. But there had not been anyone else around. And the last thing he had wanted to do was to observe or listen as the dragon mutilated innocent people. So he had spread his wings, drawing the Masamune as he had flown down to attack.

_"Get back!"_ he had yelled harshly at the group. They had been more than willing to comply, fleeing into the school bus while the mortal combat had continued. Several times Sephiroth had nearly been wounded by the vicious claws, and once the bus's side had been scraped almost entirely across, but at least the talons had not gone all the way through the material. Sephiroth had pierced the leg, forcing the creature back. And the battle had ensued for some time.

After all those months, Sephiroth had become quite familiar with the best ways to kill the beasts, without being injured himself. He had ended up with only a few scratches. By contrast, the dragon had lain dead. He had looked it over for a moment to make sure, and then had walked to the bus, where he had matter-of-factly informed the teacher that the danger had passed. _"But there's hardly ever only one,"_ he had added. _"You should pick somewhere else for your field trip."_ She had certainly not disagreed.

He still recalled the children pressed against the glass windows, staring at him. He had never been sure whether they had been awed or frightened by him. He was not the sort of person who had much to do with children. That was fine with him, and they did not seem to mind, either. On that occasion he had glanced to them, meeting their gazes. Some of them had shrank back, but others had remained. Sun must have been one of those.

"I told my mom about it when it happened, but not even that changed her mind," Sun frowned in the present.

"People who have made up their minds that strongly usually don't change them," Sephiroth answered. "And if your mother sees you with me, she'll probably think I'm the one who hurt you."

Sun looked downcast. "Yeah, she probably will." She looked up at him again. "But she knows I get into fights sometimes! And . . . well, this isn't the first time with Billy, either."

Why was that not surprising? Sephiroth crossed his arms, giving her a stern look. "Not always over me, I hope," he said, his tone only half-sarcastic.

"No . . ." She smirked. "This is the second one over you."

Sephiroth sighed. "I'm not worth that," he said. "Do you think fighting him ever makes him change his opinion?"

She shrugged. "Probably not, but it feels good."

Sephiroth did not alter his expression.

Now Sun sighed. Obviously he was not impressed here. Not that it should really be a surprise. Adults were rarely happy with news of fighting. And even though Sephiroth had reportedly once been a great General, and still battled now as well, he was not reckless and was not the type who would condone "childish skirmishes."

"My name's Sun, like Billy said," she announced, deciding to change the subject. "S-U-N. I don't like being called Sunny or Sunshine."

This elicited a slight smirk from Sephiroth. So she did not care for nicknames, either.

She grinned, happy to have broken through the cold exterior, even if only for a moment. "Can I see you again?" she pleaded.

He shook his head. "You really shouldn't." The last thing he wanted was for the child to get into trouble because of him. And aside from that, it was not a good idea for her to idolize him. He was certain that he was not a suitable role model.

"But I like you," she protested.

"Most people don't. I don't want to see you ostracized over this." Then he frowned. She would not likely know what that meant.

Instead she shrugged. "I've been ostracized for years," she said. "You wanna know why?"

Well, there should not be any harm in playing along. "Why?" he asked.

"Because I'm weird," she said matter-of-factly.

"Weird," he repeated.

She nodded. "I like to go adventuring and stuff, but I'd rather go alone. It's hard to do what I want with a big group. So I stay by myself a lot. Mom doesn't usually mind. She says I'm 'destined for great things', and that I'm better than the other kids, anyway." She frowned. "I don't think that, really. I just think I'm on a different level than them. I think about things that they don't, so we don't get along very well."

That sounded familiar---at least the part about not getting along with them. He had never been very close to the neighborhood youth growing up. He had always been more serious than them, and though he had showed kindness and had usually been polite, he had not tried to make friends. He had found it more preferable to be alone rather than to attempt friendships with those who had nothing in common with him.

"Where do you live?" he asked.

Hope crept into her eyes. "In the new part of town that's being built up," she said, and pointed in that direction. It was not near to where they were currently located.

Sephiroth weighed the possibilities in his mind. A storm was supposed to be coming, and from the reports, it would be serious. The sky had already clouded over, and the temperature was descending. And it would take the girl some time to arrive home.

"I'll take you there," he said, "but that's it. For your own good, I don't want you to speak to me again, if we happen to meet."

She looked down, forlorn. He would not change his mind. But she could not make herself agree to those terms. If she made herself promise, then she would be obligated to keep her word, and she did not know if she could.

"Let's go." His voice was stern. "It's going to snow."

She nodded. Hesitantly she reached out, taking hold of one of his gloved hands.

He froze. That was not what he had expected. And such contact would bode even less well for her, if observed. But he was too weary to protest. If she wanted to hold on to his hand so badly, then so be it.

Maybe he was just growing too soft.

* * *

It was an old building, left unused and abandoned by the passage of time and the changing government of the land. That worked just fine for the ones currently inhabiting it. They had full run of everything---immense dining halls, spacious bedrooms, an enormous library, and even the chapel. Though none of them ventured there much, except in idle curiosity.

Lights were on in many, if not most, of the rooms---but of course they had to be concealed from the outside world. No matter how indifferent the townspeople currently were to the once-proud edifice, they would come to investigate if glows were visible in some of the rooms. And that would not do at all.

This particular room was filled with light, too---but it was such a cold, heartless glow that instead of warming the occupants, it was chilling at least one of them. Yet instead of bothering the entity, it only served as a fascination.

He was on a slab, curled in a fetal position with one obvious addition---three wings were wrapped around his otherwise bare body. Behind him, his long hair swooped over his shoulders and hung over the edge of the metal table. He appeared to be a fully-grown male, in the prime of his life as far as physical age was concerned. He was muscular and strong, a formidable opponent for certain. And yet, he had only just been brought into being.

His green eyes had barely opened to the world around him. It was so strange and new and different. . . . This room was apathetic, the slab was cold, the light pale. And his existence was something that he did not comprehend at all. What was he? Why was he here? Why did he have the feeling that he was being watched?

One of the wings was touched by something that was firm and demanding. It searched the feathers, feeling over the down, and the primaries spread out as they bristled. He did not like being touched by this . . . whatever-it-was, but only because the touch was not kind. Even so, this served to interest him as well. It was part of his awakening to life.

"Perfect," a voice purred. "You're a flawless specimen."

He looked up, staring in awe at the dark-haired, wingless being in a white coat. "Specimen?" he repeated, testing his own voice. "Is . . . that what I am called?" Slowly he began to pull himself into a kneeling position, still keeping the wings around himself. His body moved with ease, and it seemed surreal in some way. He was really alive, actually in a vessel that could move, and see, and hear. . . . He was breathing, the life-giving air entering and leaving his lungs. He was transfixed.

"You are a clone," answered White Coat. "You were created in the exact likeness of Sephiroth."

The clone tilted his head to the side, confused. "Why don't you have wings?" he asked, a slight bit of concern creeping into his voice. He should have them, shouldn't he? Weren't wings normal? Had something happened to his?

"Only clones and Sephiroth have wings," White Coat said. "And a friend of his, but that's irrelevant for the moment."

A frown, still confused. "Why?" He reached out, petting the top of a wing with his hand. The sensations were amazing. It was so soft, and yet underneath it he could feel the firm muscle. He poked the spearhead bone with curiosity. It was sharp at the tip. He withdrew his hand, laying it in the feathers again. Why wouldn't everyone want wings like these? Aside from that pointed thing, they were so pleasant.

White Coat shrugged. "I would like to know myself," he smirked.

He reached for a nearby set of clothing, holding it out. "Dress yourself," he instructed.

The clone stared at the bundle. "It's so . . . bright," he exclaimed.

White Coat smirked. "You don't like it?"

A cautious finger was extended, poking the yellow fabric. It was a nice color, but somehow it did not seem suiting for him. He would look so ridiculous in _that._ "Isn't there anything . . . darker?"

The smirk widened. "Of course." A second bundle was brought forth. This time the colors were as dark as possible. The clone accepted these clothes with relief. This felt right.

"All the others chose the same as you," came the smiling comment. "Just like Sephiroth. He would never be caught in bright colors."

He uncurled his legs, leaping down from the slab. His wings were kept around him as he turned away to sort through the items of apparel. At last locating what looked like it should come first, he spread the wings enough to get into it.

"You're very modest," White Coat mused. "Interesting. Some of your brothers really don't care." The various clones did seem to have their own personality traits, instead of being completely blank and programmable robots. And, as he was witnessing, they were capable of completing tasks necessary for their well-being, despite just having been created. But they were so easy to bend to his will, aside from that failed experiment that had actually _died_ to save Cloud Strife and Zack Fair. He still wondered how that had happened.

The clone frowned. ". . . What is this Sephiroth like?" he asked. "Why were so many made in his image?"

"He's cruel and ruthless," White Coat said. He was still smiling. "All of you were created to fight against him."

Maybe that was true, but something did not seem right about this person, either. Or about that plan. Though he did not know why. "Who are you?" the clone demanded, stepping into the dark trousers and pulling them up.

A laugh. "I suppose technically you could call me your father," White Coat said. "Foster, of course." Then he paused, musing. "Or would you be a grandson of sorts?"

The clone frowned more. That did not sound pleasant. He finally turned to face White Coat, grabbing his own black coat to pull on over his upper wing. "Why would I be connected with you at all?" he asked.

"I saw to it that you were created. And all of your brothers." White Coat reached for something that had been placed on a nearby table. Then he held up a small glass jar with a large blue feather in it. "And to think, all of you came about because of such a little thing. Amazing, isn't it? The power of DNA combined with science is the future of the world!"

Green eyes stared at the feather. That was why he existed right now? What on earth was the point? It should not take an entire army to get rid of one man, no matter how powerful. And if Sephiroth was a perfect match for their own powers, it made even less sense to him.

He reached up, pulling his hair out from where it had gotten caught in the coat. The texture was amazing---smooth and silky, with such a light silver color. Was this something unique to him and the clones, too? And Sephiroth? Or did others have hair like this? In some way, he liked the thought that it was more exclusive.

To touch things at all was incredible. He let go of his hair, flexing his fingers. And to _see . . . !_ The room was filled with strange and captivating objects. And there was a door at the opposite end, leading to another world of sights beyond.

Even if he did not understand the purpose for which he had been created, it was wonderful to be alive.

"Now that you're dressed, I'll take you with me to a little get-together," announced White Coat. "You can get acquainted with some of your soon-to-be allies. Then, two of the most experienced clones are leaving on an important mission. I want you to go with them and learn!"

He flicked a wing. "What kind of mission?" he asked.

"Oh . . . you'll find out." White Coat's smile had turned even stranger. The clone was not pleased.

"Do I . . . have a name?" he wondered.

Slight annoyance tugged at White Coat's features now. "You are only a clone," he scolded. "Clones have no need for names."

Green eyes narrowed. "Then how will I know when I'm being called, or if it's someone else?" he retorted.

White Coat smirked again. This one possessed Sephiroth's intellect and logic. "You will be assigned a number," he said. "Think of it as a serial number. After all, you're part of a large army."

A slow nod. A number for a name. He was not sure he liked that at all. But what choice did he have? There was nowhere else for him to go. He was supposed to serve the one who had orchestrated his very existence. This was the life of a clone, meaningless to most of the world.

"You will be . . ." White Coat paused in thoughtfulness. "Number seven-twenty-one."

"Seven-twenty-one," the clone repeated obediently. That was easy to remember. He would have to make the best of it.

* * *

Cloud winced, glowering at his side as he reached to a clap a hand over the offending rib. Why did it have to pain him when he did even the slightest thing? He was only easing his way down the stairs, and when he had taken a simple step down, the agony had stabbed into him. He gritted his teeth, clutching the banister with the other hand as he took another step.

For the first couple of days he had barely been able to get out of bed at all, and then only with assistance. Now, he had improved enough to get up himself, and to be up for longer periods of time. He had been having a nap today, since insomnia had chosen to bother him earlier. And now that he was awake, he wanted to get to the main floor again.

Zack was talking on the phone. The closer Cloud got to the bottom, the more he could overhear his friend's animated conversation.

"What do you mean you can't do anything?!" he was exclaiming. "You're the general. Why can't you do something?! It's not like you need someone's permission."

Cloud frowned. So Zack had finally called Mathews? Sephiroth had not wanted to involve him, and Zack had reluctantly agreed, but had added that if anything else happened, he would speak to his superior about it. The second fire had apparently shaken him up enough to push him to do exactly that.

"Public opinion?!" Zack burst out. "Are you worried the people'll mob you too or something?" A pause. "Yeah, I know I didn't say 'sir.' And I know I'm raising my voice. This is more important than military rules and regulations! Innocent people are being hurt here, and other innocent people are being blamed!"

At last Cloud set foot on the floor. He gave a barely discernible sigh of relief, then began to limp his way to the couch. Zack had his back turned, yelling into the phone that was positioned just at the bottom of the stairs. His free hand was clenching into a fist at his side.

"I thought the military's job was to help people!" he cried. "If you're so worried about more rioting, why don't you do something about it instead of hiding in your office all day?!"

A clipped voice said something Cloud could not catch. Zack started as a distinct _click_ sounded on the other end of the phone. He frowned, pulling back the receiver and glaring at it as if it was somehow responsible for the lack of empathy. Then his shoulders slumped. He let it fall back into its cradle.

A weak grin spread over his features as he turned to look at Cloud. "Maybe I'll get court-martialed for that alone," he said, trying to put a light tone into his voice. "He just said 'I'm very busy. Good day, Commander Fair.'"

Cloud shook his head. "You're always putting your foot in your mouth," he remarked, sinking into the couch cushions.

"Oho? You're one to talk." Zack ran a hand through his raven spikes. "Actually, Mathews sounded kinda weird," he said. "More than usual, I mean."

"Probably just busy, like he said," Cloud shrugged.

"Yeah. . . ." A new resolve came into Zack's eyes. "Think I'll walk over to the base and see him in person," he declared. "Maybe then we can get somewhere."

"Or maybe you'll get into a bigger mess," Cloud said.

Zack grabbed his cane from where he had leaned it against the desk. "Thanks for always being encouraging," he said.

"No problem," Cloud answered, his voice dripping sarcasm.

Zack looked him up and down. "Will you be okay here alone?" he asked, sounding a bit hesitant. "I shouldn't be long. . . . Maybe Seph will come back before me."

"I'll be fine." Cloud crossed his arms, glancing out the window. "The base is just right over there. What could go wrong with me?"

"They say accidents usually happen in the home," Zack said.

"I'll be sitting here. And now you're sounding like Sephiroth," Cloud said dryly.

Zack rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah . . . I guess I am," he said, looking sheepish. "Well, okay then. I'll see you soon, pal!" He gave Cloud a mock salute as he headed for the door.

Cloud found himself responding with the same gesture. He frowned, dropping his hand to the couch. "Now you're turning me into a dork," he complained.

Zack smirked. "The inner dork has to come out somehow," he said, opening the door and limping onto the porch.

* * *

Sun was happy as they walked. Most who saw turned to stare, but she could not care less. She told Sephiroth about school, some of the adventures on which she had embarked, and her mother's work. He rarely responded, save for the occasional grunt or one-word comment, but she knew he was listening. And that was plenty for her. He was what she had known he was---not a demon or a monster, but a man, a good man who just happened to have three wings. She only wished her mother could realize it, too. If she could, then she would know there was nothing to worry about!

Sephiroth was still unsure of what he thought of the situation. Being with a child was quite far removed from his comfort zone. He did not know how to react or speak to her, really, so he had opted for the only approach he knew---treating her as an adult for the most part. If he could equate it with commanding a group of soldiers, and how he had spoken to them when they had come for advice, then it became at least somewhat easier. Some of them had been removed from their childhoods by only a few years, after all.

The home in question, when they approached it, was really more of a mansion. There were two main floors, as well as an attic, and it looked as though basement windows were visible through the snow packing on the ground. The driveway was long and winding, and a snowman had been begun in the front yard. He had passed this abode once or twice during his many walks, though for the most part he had stayed out of the more high-class section of town. The rich were usually the most adamant against winged beings, probably so that they could stay as part of the accepted social circle and get the most munny they could.

"Who is your mother?" he asked now, frowning as he studied the spacious home and property.

Sun shifted. "Kala-Ansa," she admitted. "She gives munny to the politicians and stuff."

Sephiroth frowned more. He should have realized. There had been hints, and he knew Kala-Ansa had a child. Sun did not resemble the dark-haired woman, but she might have inherited more of her father's genes.

Sun peered up at him. "Are you mad? That I didn't tell you before?" She looked stricken, as if fearing she had done something horrible. Angering Sephiroth was the last thing she wanted.

He sighed. "No," he said. Though if he had known, would he have agreed to bring her home?

. . . Yes, he would have. No matter her parentage, the snow would still come. It had been falling since they had been halfway there, and the wind was blowing stronger all the time. Of course, he did not particularly want to incur the millionairess's wrath, but that would not have been why he might have been even more hesitant to bring Sun here. He would not, and did not, want Kala-Ansa's daughter to be the recipient of her anger because of being with a winged person.

And there was Kala-Ansa now, opening the door. Even from the walkway, her stern expression was visible. Sun gripped Sephiroth's hand, her nervousness now apparent.

"Well." Kala-Ansa's voice was cold as ice, just as it had been a week previous. "What is going on here?" She came onto the porch and then onto the walkway, looking as though she had not determined whom she should be more angry towards. Her gaze shifted from Sun to Sephiroth and back again.

Sun decided she should be the one to speak. "I was fighting with Billy again, Mom," she said, letting go of the gloved hand as she stepped forward. "Then Sephiroth came and made us stop and said he'd bring me home because of the snow."

"Really." Kala-Ansa glanced to Sephiroth, her brown eyes searching for some hint to either confirm the truth or to prove that the child was telling a falsehood. "I didn't know you liked children, Sephiroth."

He stood his ground, meeting her gaze with firmness. "I felt she should get home before the storm hit," he said, refusing to answer the question. It was irrelevant, and he was not about to deliver his personal opinion on children because this strange and somehow venomous woman wanted him to. All she needed to know was that her daughter had been completely safe with him.

She glanced up the sky. "It looks like you didn't make it. Couldn't you have . . . what do you call it again? Teleported Sun here?"

"I wanted to walk," Sun protested.

Sephiroth could not shake the feeling that he was being mocked. It was one more way for Kala-Ansa to show her disapproval. "I brought her here safe," he said, his tone clipped.

"Except for what happened during the fight." Kala-Ansa reached out, grabbing hold of the girl's hand. "I will take it from here, Sephiroth. Thank you for returning my wayward child."

Sun stiffened. "Billy started it!" she protested. "He was telling lies about Sephiroth, and . . ."

"You felt the need to 'correct' him," Kala-Ansa remarked. "This isn't the first time." She turned, moving to take Sun with her back to the porch.

The girl sighed in resignation. She knew she had gone against her mother's wishes by fighting again. But she looked back to Sephiroth. Did she expect him to say something in her behalf? The look he was giving her said that he would not interfere with whatever her mother saw as appropriate punishment. And of course, that was the way he was. She bit her lip, turning away as she hurried to keep up with the swift strides. Soon they were inside the house, the door slamming shut behind them.

A frown crossed Sephiroth's features. His task was done. He should be leaving, but for some reason he was lingering, staring ahead at the home. Was Kala-Ansa more upset about the fight, or about Sephiroth's presence? He felt an ominous, cold sensation, and it had very little to do with the snow.

Still, the sudden shouting from inside startled him enough that his upper wing twitched.

"You know I forbade you to have anything to do with that wretch!" Kala-Ansa's voice echoed through the door. "The winged creatures are wicked. Who knows what he could have done to you . . . !"

"He wouldn't hurt me!" Sun screamed back. "He had a lot of chances today, if he was going to do something!"

"He'll gain your trust first, and then betray you!"

"That's not true!" Sun's voice was taking on a tone of desperation. "He could've been killed when he fought that dragon!"

The next sound Sephiroth heard sounded like a slap. His eyes narrowed. He had not expected Kala-Ansa to go that far.

"You will not talk back to me, young lady. That demon is corrupting your mind. I'm going to make certain that he and his friend are banned from the city. Then maybe his spell over you will be broken."

"There's not any spell!" Sun yelled with both vehemence and betrayal. "You can't hurt him! He hasn't done anything wrong!"

"I've heard enough. You will go to your room."

"No!"

"I won't repeat this again. Go to your room. Now!"

The running of feet and the slamming of a door signaled the end of the conversation.

Sephiroth turned away, his expression dark. Kala-Ansa was definitely a serious problem, just as he had suspected. And bringing Sun home was probably the worst course of action he could have taken. Now her mother was angry at her, and believing all manner of outrageous fables. As if he would cast such a spell on anyone, let alone a child. He really would have to be pathetic, if he ever fell that far. The last thing he would ever do would be to manipulate someone into liking him. If they did, they did, and if they did not, then so be it.

"Sephiroth?"

He started, turning and looking up. The sound was coming from above him. Sun was leaning out of an upstairs window, peering down at him. Her expression was regretful and filled with sadness.

"I'm really sorry if you heard that," she said. "My mom's just . . ."

He shook his head. "Don't speak to me," he ordered, spreading his wings. "It will only make it worse." With that he took flight, rising into the oncoming snowflakes.

Sun stared after his departing form until he was no longer in sight. Then she eased herself back into her room, pulling the window shut. She slumped to the floor underneath, drawing her knees up to her chest as she stared blankly at the expensive carpet in front of her. She was not a people person, as she had explained. Her mother was usually busy, and over the years she had learned to adjust to being alone. Since most others did not share her thought processes, she was fine with that. But Sephiroth was different. She was happy around him, as she had not been happy in some time. She did not want to see him hurt. If her mother really threw him out of the city, or worse . . .

Tears slipped from her eyes. It was only a few at first, but it soon became a steady flow. She leaned forward, burying her face against her knees as she began to sob. She was afraid. Not for herself, but for the man who had just left, and his friends. She knew how intolerant Kala-Ansa could be. She knew the extent of the evil that her mother was capable of.

Or she believed she did.

Down below, the woman was stepping outside again. Her eyes were narrowed as she walked through the snow, towards the object she had viewed from her office window. She had known what it was, even from inside, and yet for some reason she had wanted to go out to it. She bent down, lifting a large blue feather out of the powder. With care she brushed it off with one finger, studying it with her piercing gaze. At last she turned, carrying it with her into the house.


	5. So Many Less Lucky

**Notes: Thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help! And whew, here we go with what the other main song that has been an inspiration for this fic has brought about. Gotta say, I'm kinda nervous about it, even though I've been hinting at the twist. Kala-Ansa and Sun's creation originally came about because of it.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

**So Many Less Lucky**

Clone Seven-Twenty-One walked alongside his silent companions, his eyes narrowed. Snow was falling all around them, the flakes twirling and dancing to land on the ground, on the clones' clothes, and in their hair. It was fascinating. The entire world around them was something so different from the laboratory inside the castle. The biting temperatures, the gray skies, the blue canyons in the distance, all the peoples' friendly-looking homes. . . . He would rather go explore all over the city instead of going on this mission. The fact that the older clones would not tell him what they were going to do made him suspicious.

Was he really the only one who had doubts about working for the white-coated man? At the meeting, all the others present had voiced agreement about White Coat's plans and had vowed to kill Sephiroth. But Clone Seven-Twenty-One had only felt a dark, cold illness in his heart. There was such a blood-thirsty attitude amongst them! It could not be right.

The other clones stopped in front of a building. It was tall, with five or six levels, and glass doors in neat rows. Balconies were under each set of two. Some of them appeared to be entrances to very well-lived in abodes, with chairs, plants, or even bikes on some of the small porches.

Clone Two-Twenty-Three stepped forward. "This is it," he said with a sneer. He held out his hand, letting a flame spark from his palm.

721 stared. "What are you doing?" he cried.

223 half-glanced to his protégé, still with the cruel sneer. "This is our mission," he said. "To burn down this building. Sephiroth will be blamed." He drew his arm back to throw the blaze.

And 721 knew this was not something that he could allow. He lunged, grabbing 223's wrist. "No!" he burst out.

223's lip curled as he tore his arm away. "What's your problem?" he snapped. Four-Twenty-Five, the other clone present, frowned.

"This isn't right!" cried 721. "Even if Sephiroth is a bad man, that doesn't make it right to harm innocent people! And how could it be right to blame him for something he didn't even do? How can you feel justified in doing this?!" He did not fully understand what kind of building they were in front of, but for it to be so big, there must be many people inside. How could they start something so potentially devastating as a fire, bringing harm to them all?

223 threw the flame at the edifice before he could be stopped. The blaze crackled as it leapt in hunger at the wood. The culprit laughed.

"I don't have to feel justified!" he said. "I just have to obey orders. And that's your job, too, Seven-Twenty-One."

721 could only stare in horror at the climbing flames. "Not if it's an evil order!" he retorted. He had to stop this! He did not know how he could succeed, but in good conscience he could not stand by and let this building burn!

425 reached out, catching him by the arm. "If you're not brave enough to go through with this, then just stand and watch," he said, his voice dark and cold. "Maybe we won't tell the doctor what you did."

721 pulled free. "I'm not 'brave' enough," he retorted, "because to do what you're doing isn't bravery at all. You're cowards!" He raised his hands to the sky, calling forth his pillars of flame as a barrier between him and them. If he could not stop the fire, then he would have to try to warn everyone inside and get them out. That was the only decent thing to do.

Would they even trust him at all? If Sephiroth was already so hated because of what the clones were doing, and he looked like Sephiroth, then he might be rejected. But they would not be able to ignore the blaze upon the building. It should be proof enough that he spoke the truth.

He turned, running into the building. Either the others would chase after him, or else they would send more fire, wanting to kill him along with all the residents. But he would have to take the chance. If he could get the people to listen to him, he could teleport out with them, maybe to the blue canyons he had seen in the distance. They should be safe there while he worked to put out the blaze.

Dashing to the first door, he knocked with urgency. "The building is on fire! You have to get out!" he screamed. When the knob started to turn, he dashed to the next door over and repeated the process. Soon all doors were open and everyone was staring at the strange man climbing the stairs. Some began to yell, cursing the "winged devil" for the prank---until a woman realized it was the truth.

"There's flames right outside my window!" she cried. "It's not a prank!"

Another curse. "Then he probably started it!" the man yelled.

"He's warning us!" the woman scolded, running back into her apartment. "He didn't cause it!"

721 did not stop until he had knocked on every door. When he was halfway up, the building began filling with the smoke. He coughed, covering his mouth with one hand as his eyes watered. Maybe some of those on the lower floors had escaped, but those higher up would probably not be able to get out unless he helped them.

By now the fire alarm was wailing in a mournful way. Doors were flying open as the panicked residents tore into the hallway, their arms filled with assorted bundles. Most of them ran past 721, barely giving a him a second glance. He reached out, grabbing at one of the women.

"There isn't a way out," he protested. "The flames are all around the building. But I can get you out! I can teleport you to the canyons while the fire is being put out."

The woman stared up at him, her eyes wide and frightened. "Why?" she asked. "Why would you help us?"

He shook his head. "That isn't important. We have to go right now!"

It was a relief to see people gathering around him. Maybe it was just because they were desperate, but they were willing to trust him. And now he could not let them down. He needed to teleport. This would be the first time he had done it officially, though White Coat had made him try it several times before leaving with 223 and 425.

He shut his eyes, drawing in his concentration. He just had to focus on the image of the canyons, and on taking everyone with him. He had practiced with Clone Six-Thirty-Five back at the castle. It should be simple.

Children were crying somewhere in the crowd, terrified by having to flee their only home, and knowing that they might never be coming back. The adults were sad as well, some apprehensive, some shedding tears of their own. 721 blocked out all of it. There was only the canyons, and the journey. . . .

The cold air lashed at his cheeks, blowing back his bangs.

He opened his eyes. The people were staring in stunned amazement at their new surroundings. They were atop one of the plateaus, standing in the thick snow. It was not the best shelter, especially since it was snowing again, but if he could just get the fire extinguished, he could bring them back!

"I'll be back," he said, feeling awkward. Then he telepoted away again, back to the apartment complex.

This was such a strange way to be introduced to the world.

How would he even save the building? His powers were connected to fire, not water. Maybe there was nothing more he could do, except to make sure everyone else was out. Now, as he stood back in the stifling, burning hallway, he could hear sirens approaching. Was that good or bad? It was such a mournful sound, like that alarm that was still ringing.

Were 223 and 425 still out there, or would they have left, figuring that their job was done? Should he even return to the castle at all? He needed to convince them that there was a better way, that they should not be hurting people! And maybe Sephiroth was not even a bad man at all. If White Coat sanctioned these kinds of actions, how could anything he did or said be trusted?

He would think about it later. For now he needed to make sure all the rooms were clear.

* * *

Zack limped down the stark white corridors of the military base, his steps purposeful and determined. He had been on extended leave since Hojo had shot him, and hence, he had not been in this building for some time. But it felt as though he had never left. Everything was as he remembered---the tiled floor, the many identical office doors, the lack of interior decorating. . . . He had often complained to Mathews about that. And Mathews had always shaken his head in weariness and said that decorating was not the military's job.

It was strange. . . . As he got closer, it was obvious that someone was in there already, talking to Mathews. It was a low voice, and deep, and . . . actually, it sounded like Seph. Zack frowned. Coming here would be the last thing Seph would do. He reached the door, pausing to listen. He did not want to interrupt something important.

"Let's be honest, General," Seph's voice was saying, and there was a definite sneering tone. "If this information got out, your career would be over. At least, it would be under high investigation, and rumors would abound. No one would trust you. Why should they?"

A chill ran up Zack's spine. What was going on? That could not be Seph. But . . . if it wasn't, that would mean it was a clone.

Mathews gave a frustrated sigh. ". . . If you were to give me the tape, what would be the price?" he asked.

"Oh . . . sending the army away from the city to investigate the new dragon outbreak might help," said the clone.

"I can't dismiss the entire army!" Mathews cried. "Especially with this fire problem that you and your friends are causing . . ."

Zack drew a sharp breath. Mathews knew about the clones. Had he known before Zack had called him? And what was this about a tape? Why would a clone blackmail an army general with a tape? What could be that incriminating?

"Fire problem?" the clone jeered. "You're not doing anything about it anyway. Isn't that what Commander Fair was angry about just now?"

Silence from Mathews. He was probably glowering at his unwanted visitor.

"Hmm. . . . Should I send this tape to Commander Fair?" the clone mused. "I'm sure it would interest him---General Mathews and Dr. Hojo, conversing last summer."

The lavender eyes widened. It was all he could do not to cry out in disbelief. What would _Mathews_ have been doing talking with _Hojo_ last summer?!

"Hojo began creating my early brothers shortly after that conversation, you know. When you gave him permission to abduct Sephiroth."

"I . . . I had no idea he was planning to do something as monstrous as this!" Mathews was outraged. "The original plan was only to determine if the winged man truly was General Sephiroth, as Commander Fair still believes!"

A dark laugh. "Still . . . an alliance with Dr. Hojo," the clone purred. "What a thing for your men to learn. Especially Commander Fair. He would be so disillusioned."

Zack could not stand it any longer. He turned the knob, flinging the door wide. Both Mathews and the clone started and turned. The clone gave a blood-thirsty smirk. There was not any mistake---this was the Master Clone. His recovery had obviously been accelerated, as they had wondered.

"You're right!" Zack cried. "I'm disillusioned, alright!" He looked to Mathews, who had turned sheet white. "I can't even comprehend this. What's going on around here?! Sure, I've been frustrated with you a lot, but I never once dreamed you'd be a traitor like this! Working with Hojo?! You told him he could _take_ Seph?! Do you know what the creep did to him?" He gripped his cane, his knuckles turning white as well.

Mathews stood up. "I know the original plan was violated," he said. "I broke the allegiance with the man after he had his men shoot you." He clenched a fist. "I had him prisoner for some time. But he escaped."

"Oh! Well, that's great. Real heroic of you!" Zack spat. "Maybe if you'd let everybody know you had him here, we could've stopped him from getting away! And why wasn't anything done to get him back, anyway?!"

"I couldn't spare my men!" Mathews said. "That was when the fire creatures began to appear."

The Master Clone stepped in between them, holding out an unmarked video tape. "Here it is," he smiled, looking to Zack. "You can take it if you want. Blackmailing your superior is turning out to be even more fun than I thought."

Zack turned to look at him. It was revolting, to hear and see someone acting like this, especially when he looked just like Seph. "You can keep it!" he shot back. "I don't need it, not when Mathews is telling me right now that it's true! And I wouldn't want to accept anything from you, anyway!" He looked from one to the other. "You're both creeps!"

"Commander Fair." Mathews' voice was stern. "Listen to me!"

"How do I know you're gonna say anything worth hearing?!" Zack retorted.

"The only reason I agreed to Dr. Hojo's plan was because I was afraid you were being deceived by a Sephiroth impostor!" Mathews said. "I wanted him to find out who the man was."

"And now you've got a whole army of Seph impostors, none of them on our side except one who died for me and Cloud!" Zack's voice was raising. "You know how come Hojo was able to create them? He took a feather from Seph when he was holding Seph hostage!" He could not control his anger. He had trusted Mathews! He had _trusted_ him! And now, to know that he was the one responsible for the atrocities was too much to take in.

"All of this happened because of your allegiance with Hojo!" Zack continued, slamming his hand on the desk. "And because you couldn't trust Seph! Yeah, maybe you thought I was crazy, but why couldn't you really look at Seph and just _see_ that he's the real one? Why wouldn't you even _talk_ to him before doing something like this?! You trusted that creepy doctor more than you trusted Seph, or even me!" And that hurt. It really, seriously hurt.

He stopped to take a breath. "And on top of it all, you won't even _do_ anything about what you've caused!" he yelled. "You're too worried about 'public opinion' or some garbage like that! Well, let me tell you something, General. My best buddies have been taking 'public opinion' for months now. Cloud got beat up a few days ago because of it. Seph's being accused of stuff he hasn't even done, and wouldn't ever do. And innocent people are losing their property, their livelihood, and maybe soon, their lives, too! So you can just take your 'public opinion' and shove it right down your cowardly throat!"

Mathews was staring at him in utter disbelief. Zack finally fell silent, glowering at the man. His heavy breathing was the only sound.

Until the Master Clone began to laugh. This was perhaps most disturbing of all, considering whose voice he still held. The hairs on the back of Zack's neck stood up.

"It's true," the Master Clone commented. "The gentle Zack Fair can become incensed when he's pushed far enough." He tossed the tape into the air, catching it once more. "I'll just hang onto this for now. General, I'll be seeing you again." With that he was gone, vanishing in a burst of light.

Zack stared at the spot for a long moment. Then he turned away, facing the doorway in disgust. "I'm gonna go over your head and have my men start investigating, General," he said, his voice now quiet but still containing all of its venom. "I really don't care about keeping your secrets from getting out. If they're all like this one, then they _should_ come out. I care about my friends, and the other innocent people in Hollow Bastion. I care about protecting them from Hojo's clones and the crazy prejudices running wild." He took a step toward the door. "And if that means I'm gonna be up for court-martial, then that's that."

"Commander Fair. Wait."

Zack paused. Even though he was not sure why he had done so. He was fed up with Mathews, with this office, with all of the talk about military rules and regulations. Wasn't Mathews a hypocrite, to preach about that kind of stuff, after he had done something so non-regulation as making a pact with Hojo?

". . . You have my permission to open an investigation. Do whatever you need to do."

Lavender eyes blinked in surprise. "Why are you agreeing after all this time?" he demanded, suspicion leaking into his voice.

There was a long silence. ". . . Because you are a better leader than I ever have been," Mathews said at last.

Zack frowned, not sure what to make of this. "Sir?"

Mathews sighed. "You're right, Commander Fair. I am a coward. There isn't a good reason to allow myself to be manipulated by Hojo or his clones." He leaned back in his chair. "You would never stand for them doing such a thing to you. The one that was just here has been here before. He's threatened to destroy the entire city if I don't cooperate with them." He paused. "I know he has the forces to accomplish it. I didn't have enough faith in our abilities to stop it, so I agreed to do as he wished."

"But they're destroying the city anyway!" Zack protested. "Do you think this is a case of having to sacrifice a few to save many?! Because I don't!"

"That's what I mean, Commander Fair. If our roles were reversed, I believe you would have the courage, and the faith, to stop these madmen. You are what the people need." Another hesitation. "And that is why I am giving all of my power to you."

Was he really hearing this?! Zack whirled around, staring at the older man. Mathews looked so tired, but so determined, too. He meant every word of what he was saying.

"I am above you in official rank only," he continued.

Zack was still stunned. "This is . . ." Would he even be able to use so much power? He had longed for it many times, when Mathews had restricted him from getting done what he felt he needed to, and something ill had happened as a result. Now he had the chance he had wanted.

"Now, Commander Fair. You are dismissed. Do what you must." Mathews raised a hand in salute.

Slowly Zack raised his own hand in response. He was still in a daze. Maybe he would be able to process this as he walked back down the hallway.

He turned, limping out the door.

* * *

Sephiroth was still in flight when he saw the flames from below. His eyes narrowed at the sight. It looked like an apartment building. Firefighters were gathered all around, their heavy hoses operating on full blast as they struggled in desperation to extinguish the stubborn fires. Around them, the wind blew with a fierce and angry intensity, pelting their backs and faces with a barrage of snowflakes. It was as if the blizzard itself wanted the blaze to continue to burn, and wished to stop anyone fighting against it.

It was tempting to do nothing, to continue his journey home. There was little he could do to stop a fire, unless he tried to overfeed it until it would burn itself out. But when they were trying to preserve what was left of the apartment complex, that would likely not be a good idea.

On the other hand, if anyone saw him leaving the scene of the crime, they might feel it made him look all the more guilty.

What an annoying situation.

He flapped his wings, slowing the motions until he was landing smoothly on the ground. As he began to walk over to the scene of the crime, a small group of people standing and observing the firefighters' efforts turned to look at him. Some stiffened, but one woman's eyes widened in recognition.

"You!" she exclaimed. "You're the one who warned us of the fire!" She gripped the quilt she had been keeping around herself for warmth. "It was because of you that we had enough time to collect some of our belongings before running out. Otherwise we would be even worse off out here." Her face and hands were turning blue from the cold as it was. A young mother near her was rocking a baby, bundled somewhat warmer and bearing gloves that looked too big for her---but that would be just the right size for the older woman.

Sephiroth frowned in confusion. "You must have me mixed up with someone else," he said. "This is the first I've even seen of the fire."

"No!" the woman replied emphatically. "It was you. I remember very well. I heard your voice and saw your beautiful wings. You knocked on every door to make sure everyone knew what was happening. And I think you took some of those on the higher levels out of the building."

Now Sephiroth was bewildered. Could it have been Aeolus they had seen? Yet a spirit should not be able to knock on doors. Were there possibly other clones on their side? It seemed the only logical possibility.

He looked the woman in the eyes. "The person you saw couldn't have been me," he said. "But the truth may be hard to believe."

The mother looked up. "Truth?" she repeated, looking as bewildered as he had felt a moment before.

Sephiroth nodded. "The man who helped you must have been a clone of myself," he stated. "They are the ones who have been starting the fires. Maybe one of them felt remorse." He paused, thinking again of Aeolus's situation. "Or maybe he didn't take part in this crime at all, and instead wanted only to stop it."

The older woman was surprised. "A . . . clone?" She stared at Sephiroth. "But would a clone have enough of a mind of its own to do something like this?"

"It's possible," Sephiroth said. "I know of at least one who did."

A small child blinked up at him. "Are you nice, too, like the clone?" she asked.

Suddenly Sephiroth felt uncomfortable. He grunted, turning away. "I wouldn't start a fire like this," he muttered in reply.

"Sephiroth."

He froze at the cold tones, his wings all stiffening. As he turned, Kala-Ansa's businesslike form marched into view. She regarded him with her penetrating brown eyes, displaying no remorse for her previous, brusque behavior.

"You seem to be everywhere today," she commented. The hidden meaning was clear.

Sephiroth looked at her, his eyes twin orbs of emerald ice. "I just got here," he said, his voice frosted.

"The fire's been going for almost twenty minutes or more, ma'am," a firefighter added as he walked over to them. His visage was tired and worried as he tipped back his hat. In spite of the cold, he was perspiring. He ran an arm across his forehead.

"I see." Kala-Ansa looked to him. "I received a call at my home about this outrage, and I came right out. Do you know what started it?"

The man sighed. "To be perfectly honest, the only one who claimed to have seen it said that there were three fellas who all looked like him," he said, pointing at Sephiroth. "Two of 'em started the fire, and the third wouldn't have any part of it. Made a weird barrier or something and ran into the building. I guess he was the rescuer everyone's been talking about." He shook his head. "If the cursed thing is true to begin with," he added in frustration. "It was old Alda Price, and she sounded like she'd had a little too much to drink again. She could've hallucinated seeing three of the guy. It could've been one, and he felt bad about it afterwards, so he went and got everybody out. People are crazy."

"I didn't do it." Sephiroth's voice carried a dark warning.

"Look, buddy, I don't know whether you did or you didn't," the fireman retorted. "Honestly, I don't think you did. But right now what I care about is getting it out." He turned, walking back to his companions as he took hold of his part of the hose again.

Sephiroth looked back to Kala-Ansa. "Twenty minutes ago, I was at your house," he said. "You know this."

She studied him, her dark eyes never lightening. "Yes," she said. "I know it."

A new thought was beginning to formulate in her mind. What if some part of that nonsense about the clones was true? But maybe, instead of working against Sephiroth, they were working with him. Maybe he had known that some of them were going to start the fire, and he had arranged to have a perfect alibi for that time. And using Sun to secure it! How treacherous could he be?

She hated how the light from the fire caught the color of his wings, making them almost shimmer and shine. She despised how his ice-cold gaze pierced her, as if he was reading every one of her thoughts. And she abhorred how he insisted on having his coat open, even in this weather.

She hated _him_, the wretch! The demon!

He could tell that she still believed him guilty. There was little point in continuing any sort of conversation with her. He half-turned. "How is your daughter?" he asked.

Her lip curled. "She is fine," she said, "and she will be, as long as you stay away from her."

"I don't have any intention of doing otherwise." He began to walk away.

"God have mercy on you, Sephiroth." Kala-Ansa's voice had dropped to a whisper. What she said next Sephiroth did not catch. And he did not bother to ask her over. He kept walking.

Perhaps he should have asked.

* * *

It was far away from this scene that a body was crumpled, shivering in the cold as he dragged himself forward. His blue wings and silver hair hung into the snow. He was too weakened to hold up his wings. As he struggled to advance, they picked up even more of the powder. Now they looked to be a mixture of blue and white. And his hair was the same. Snow had mixed with the silver locks. In a different situation, it might have been comical, but as it was, it was tragic.

Memories swirled through his mind, memories of voices, of fighting, of cruelty. . . .

No one else had been in the building. Until 223 and 425 had teleported in and grabbed him on each side.

_"You are a traitor, Seven-Twenty-One."_

_"We haven't had problems with the others in the new batch of clones. You are defective."_

Defective . . . as if he was nothing more than cheap merchandise. Was that all a clone was? Couldn't a clone live, too? Couldn't a clone enjoy what the people from the apartment building did---warmth and kindness and loved ones?

He had said that to them. They had laughed.

_"A clone is made to obey orders. That's what we told you."_

_"A defective clone is good for nothing except to be exterminated."_

And then they had teleported away with him, to a secluded area near the castle.

He had certainly not been helpless in the battle that had followed. He had not wanted to hurt his brothers, but he had not been willing to let them kill him, either. He had fought every moment for his life. They had left wounded, and they had left him for dead.

But he was not dead. He would not die. He would live! He would find Sephiroth and see for himself if the man was evil. And if he was not, then 721 would lend him his full support.

He shuddered. Here was a staircase, leading up to a porch. Reaching up, he gripped the bottom step and began to pull himself onto it. The cement was cold against his body, but certainly not moreso than the snow packed on the stairs. He dragged himself to the second step, and then the next. There were not more than six altogether, and soon he was on the wide porch. With a shaking hand, he rapped on the door as best as he could.

In a moment it opened. A shocked gasp left the lips of a spiky-haired blond man. "Sephiroth?!" he cried. "What happened to you?!"

The clone shook his head weakly. "I'm . . . not Sephiroth," he struggled to say. "I'm Clone Seven-Twenty-One."

The blond gripped the edge of the door. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, an immediate edge slipping into his voice.

"I haven't hurt anyone," 721 answered, even as dizziness swept over him. "I tried to save them. I was beaten for it. . . ."

And then he was slumping into the snow. The last thing he heard was a curse from the blond, and what sounded like a wing unfurling.

* * *

Kala-Ansa was standing in her darkened home office, the only light coming from the fireplace across from her desk. The flames crackled and danced, giving her already-hardened face an almost hellish appearance. In her hand she was holding the feather she had taken from the snow outside her house. She moved her other hand over the back of the downy substance. It was pleasurable.

Why could she not get the devil out of her mind? she wondered in anger. Ever since she had started to focus on the problem of the winged people, and particularly this past week as the fires had started, Sephiroth had been increasingly in her thoughts. And then this evening, when she had gone to the fire, she had caught a glimpse of him flying overhead. She had felt something then, a stirring that had only grown stronger when she had spoken to him on the ground.

She could still see the light reflecting from the fire in his wings. She could still feel his cold gaze piercing her soul.

It had started when she had seen him for the first time, standing behind Commander Fair at their house. But she had managed to ignore it then. Now she could not.

She wanted to go to him, to tear his coat from his body, to run her hands over his strong chest and firm skin. She wanted to restrain him on the floor, lean over him and taste his lips. She wanted to do so many things that she knew she should not.

He had cast a spell on her too! That had to be it. He had made Sun adore him, in her pure and innocent way, and now he had bestowed a much more vile feeling upon her mother! It was not Sun's fault, or Kala-Ansa's---it was his, the foul sorcerer! He should burn in Hell. It was all he deserved!

She pulled the feather away, glaring at it as though it was somehow evil. What was she doing? Why could she not break away from this devilry? She stepped forward, thrusting the feather into the flames. It was consumed in an instant. But she herself was being consumed by a much more dangerous fire.

She was pure, she was virtuous! She fought against wickedness of all kinds. How could this be happening to her? She could not control it, or so she firmly told herself. The evil was stronger than she.

"God have mercy on him," she whispered, staring into the flames. "God have mercy on me.

"But Sephiroth will be mine, or he will be sentenced to death."


	6. The Poor and Downtrod

**Notes: Thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help!  
**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**The Poor and Downtrod**

Cloud felt a keen sense of despair as Clone Seven-Twenty-One collapsed into the snow. Now what was he going to do? The guy must be the same weight as Sephiroth. How would Cloud manage to lift him all by himself? It would be hard enough to do it if he was not still recovering from the attack. And as it was, he was not in the best condition to be hoisting any Sephiroth look-alike.

Placing a hand on the doorframe, he began to ease himself to his knees. "Hey," he said, his voice gruff, "wake up! I can't carry you." Not that the clone was in any condition to move himself. But even if he was half-crawling, that would help. Cloud grasped the clone's shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. No response. It was too much to hope for.

Cloud muttered under his breath. Maybe if he could support the upper body, he could drag the clone inside. Of course he would have to be careful not to hurt him. But there did not seem to be any other way.

He leaned down further, getting his hands under the clone's arms. With care he raised the upper torso, bringing the form towards him. It was eerie, how this guy looked just like Sephiroth. And yet he was not. Blood trickled from a cut just under his left eye. The wound might leave a scar, which would clearly tell him apart from Sephiroth. So that would be something, at least.

. . . Though if he was as prideful as Sephiroth, a scar on his face would be abhorrent to him.

The clone shuddered, seeming to relax into Cloud's arms. Supporting him with one arm, Cloud moved his other arm further down, gripping the coat at the lower back. As he moved back into the room, he eased the clone in with him. The wings, instead of twitching, remained limp. The collected snow scattered into the carpet as the deep blue appendages came to rest on the light gray plush.

"Good thing Zack isn't picky about snow in the rug," Cloud said in sarcasm.

With the senseless form all the way inside now, Cloud slammed the door shut and turned the lock. Considering all of their troubles, it was not too paranoid. He reached down, unbuckling the clone's boots and pulling them off. All of that was the easy part. Getting the clone to either the couch or the guest room was the next hurdle.

At least he, it, whatever, seemed to be waking up now. The body stirred, a grunt forming in the throat.

"Can you crawl or something?" Cloud asked in discomfort.

The mumbled reply would have to be taken as a Yes. Cloud straightened, getting his feet under him as he half-stood, half-bent over to assist the clone. The clone was getting to his hands and knees, moving forward in a sluggish way. The wings on his right side brushed against Cloud's legs and feet as he passed. Cloud could only stand by feeling awkward, reaching to offer help but finding the strange visitor could manage.

Upon arriving at the couch the clone extended his hands, pulling himself up on it. Then he promptly curled into a fetal position, wrapped his wings tightly around himself, and passed out again.

Cloud ran a hand through his bangs. "That's just great," he said in sarcasm. "How am I even going to look you over now? And you're soaking wet. You'll get pneumonia if you sleep like that!"

He walked to the couch, wrapping his fingers around the upper wing's bone. He pulled. It did not budge.

"It's a defense mechanism."

Cloud started at the familiar, deep tones. Had Sephiroth teleported in without warning? But no . . . it was a transparent Sephiroth coming through the wall. It walked over, leaning on the back of the couch with crossed arms.

". . . Aeolus, right?" Cloud said, trying not to feel creeped out by the ghost-Sephiroth.

A nod. "And I see you've met Clone Seven-Twenty-One," said Aeolus. "I'm proud to say he won't go along with Hojo's plans."

"Well, whoop-de-do." Cloud glowered at the unconscious clone. "So how am I supposed to help him, anyway?"

Aeolus leaned over the couch. "You need to uncurl your wings," he said to the other clone. "Cloud can't help you if you don't."

Cloud crossed his arms, silently observing. It was interesting to note that Aeolus kept his hair tied back. Sephiroth was so proud of his long locks. He would never dream of tying them back. But apparently Aeolus liked his hair enough to not want to cut it.

. . . If ghosts could cut their hair at all.

His eyes widened in surprise as the wings' deathgrip began to loosen. The largest wing fell back, spreading against the front of the couch arm and leg. The lower two remained where they were, but limp. Cloud came forward, staring down at the form. "How did you do that?" he demanded.

Aeolus shrugged. "We're brothers, really, born of Sephiroth's feather. We can communicate."

"Yay." Cloud let out a frustrated breath. "I still have to figure out how to get him out of these wet clothes." And that was not going to be easy for just one person to accomplish. He grabbed the clone's arm, holding it out as he began to slip the glove off of the lifeless hand. That wasn't so bad, but getting the arms out of the sleeves was going to be insane. Not to mention taking the coat over that wing. . . .

The key turned in the lock and the door opened. As Cloud glanced over his shoulder, he could see Sephiroth walking in. This one had to be him, at least---unless a clone had stolen his key.

"What's going on in here?" Sephiroth frowned, taking in the clone on the couch and the ghost-clone leaning on it. The one on the furniture had better not be dangerous. Though Cloud and what must be Aeolus did not seem apprehensive. Maybe all was well, save for the living clone's current state of being.

Cloud straightened up, rolling his eyes. "My worst nightmare come true," he said sarcastically. "I'm surrounded by Sephiroths."

Sephiroth and Aeolus both smirked.

Albeit Sephiroth could not help thinking it was a bizarre and surreal situation. Especially when there was not a mirror present.

"Give me some help with this guy," Cloud said. "He's defected from Hojo and they beat him up or something. And he's half-frozen." He looked Sephiroth up and down. "Where have you been all this time?"

Sephiroth came over to the couch, studying his double. Then he began to raise the upper torso, while at the same time attempting to extract the limp arm from the dark sleeve. Cloud moved to help support the body.

"I went to investigate the latest fire," Sephiroth said. "And I heard about a clone who helped the victims. This must be him."

Cloud blinked. Now he could clearly see that some of the coat was scorched. Though that could also be from the other clones attacking him. They had probably brought out their fire power.

At last Sephiroth got the arm free. "We need to get the other arm out next," he said. "Otherwise we'll have problems with the wing."

"Alright." Cloud shifted the clone's position, letting it slump against him so that the left arm was accessible. Sephiroth began to slip it out of the sleeve.

Cloud let his thoughts wander. None of the clones should have been created at all. Hojo had been tampering with life unfairly, and making creatures that would obey his every whim. This . . . thing slumped against him had an artificial life. Was a clone really like any other normal person? Could it be? Aeolus was certainly not what Cloud thought of when the word "clone" came to mind. He was like Sephiroth, and yet he was not. He had his own personality. Even just leaning on the couch showed that fact.

Did clones deserve to live? Aeolus should not have died. And if this one did not want to hurt anyone, either, then there was no reason why it should not have the same chance at a good life.

He should not really think of as an "it", should he? 721 was not a robot. 721 was definitely a he.

"Do you have any clothes you could give him?" Cloud asked. Now Sephiroth was removing the coat. The clone's upper wing began to twitch as the fabric was slid over the feathery appendage. So much like Sephiroth. His wings were always moving.

"Probably. I have an extra robe and sleep pants." Sephiroth set the coat aside. They could let the clone's upper body rest against the couch again now. Cloud looked ungodly uncomfortable with the form slumped against him, as though he was not sure what to do about it at all.

"Don't you have ten of everything, all in black?" Cloud's voice was only half-sarcastic.

"Navy blue isn't bad, either," Sephiroth answered, his tone dry. "I haven't seen you wearing much of anything other than black or dark blue---except for that cloak of yours."

Cloud shrugged. "Black's comfortable."

Aeolus was amused by their banter. "I'm going to find Merlin," he said. "He's helped me a lot, and he might be able to give this clone guidance, too. And a name." He straightened up, his hair swishing behind him.

"A name?" Cloud raised an eyebrow. "Sure, whatever. Guess we can't keep calling him Seven-Twenty-One, after all."

Aeolus vanished.

Sephiroth looked back to Cloud. "Back to work," he said, grasping the clone's shoulders and easing him down to the couch.

Cloud nodded, relaxing as the weight was lifted. "Might as well. The guy's still got wet clothes on. Is it still snowing out there?"

"It had stopped, when I last knew." Sephiroth began to undo the suspenders.

Following his lead, Cloud started to unbuckle the belts.

* * *

Soon the clone was warmed and clothed again, and a fire had been started in the fireplace. He had wrapped his wings around himself again, burrowing under the largest one almost as a bird might do when covering its head to sleep. Perhaps in his subconscious he smelled the fire crackling, and he was not ready to deal with another blaze just yet. There were several burns at various locations over his body, which had been washed and bandaged with care. It was unclear whether they existed courtesy of the fire or the wicked clones.

"He's just lucky they aren't serious," Sephiroth said, watching as 721 seemed to be trying to disappear into the couch. "Though I couldn't say what it's done to his mental state of mind."

"Poor guy," Cloud found himself saying. He frowned.

The door opened. Zack limped inside, his expression dazed. As he turned to look at the scene by the couch, he could only blink in confusion. Why were there two Sephs? Aeolus was dead, so he could not be one or the other of them. But Seph and Cloud did not seem worried.

"This is Clone Seven-Twenty-One," Sephiroth announced in a dry tone. He frowned at Zack's befuddled appearance. "What happened?" he demanded. Zack did not look as though something negative had happened, actually; more as though he simply could not comprehend whatever it was, negative or positive.

Zack shook his head. "I . . . I'm suddenly in charge of the whole army," he exclaimed. Coming back to himself, he stumbled over to the couch. "And what's a clone doing here?!" he said, unable to mask the apprehension in his voice.

"He dragged himself here or something," Cloud said. "He got beat up for going against Hojo."

"Yeah?" Zack perked up. "Well . . . at least they're not all bad, then." He leaned over, studying the hurt form. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Probably." Sephiroth gave Zack a Look. "But what's this about you being in charge of the army?"

Zack gave a weak laugh. "I'm still trying to wrap my mind around it, actually," he said. "See, I went to see Mathews and . . ." He paused at the look that was coming over Seph. "Hey, after this other fire, I felt like I had to!" he protested. "You weren't here, so I couldn't talk to you about it first!"

Sephiroth sighed, massaging his forehead. "What happened?" he queried. Cloud had mentioned where Zack had gone, so Sephiroth had been prepared for this statement from Zack, but he still did not like it.

Before Zack could explain, Merlin had suddenly appeared in the room, along with Aeolus. The magician did not waste time by staring around the room in fascination, as he had done at the New Year's party. Instead he adjusted his glasses, looking from the three standing men to the clone curled as tightly as possible on the couch.

"Well, my, my . . . so this is Seven-Twenty-One?" he said, walking over to the silent form. "I can see he's very protective of himself."

"He was just created today," Aeolus put in. "He's still adjusting to life."

Cloud shook his head. "What a way to come into the world," he muttered.

Merlin reached out, gently touching the largest wing. The primaries bristled, spreading out, but then relaxed. There was no danger in this touch. No need to worry.

The wizard nodded in thoughtfulness. "I'm thinking," he mused, "maybe 'William' would be a good name for him."

"'William'?!" Cloud repeated, incredulous. He looked Sephiroth up and down. "William" was not a name he would ever think of in connection with the tri-winged man, or for anyone who looked like him.

A nod. "It comes from the German variation 'Wilhelm'," Merlin explained, "and that in turn is the combining of 'wil'---meaning desire or will---and 'helm'---helmet or protection. I believe it describes both his need for self-preservation and his courage in helping so many people today."

"Then he is the one from the fire?" Cloud broke in.

Another nod. "Oh yes, most certainly."

Zack observed in curiousness. "So . . . will he be okay?" he asked.

"I would say so," Merlin agreed. "I will stay here until he awakens."

He frowned, looking from Cloud to Sephiroth. "You two have gotten yourselves into so much trouble," he scolded lightly. He knew they were not at fault. The problem of what to do about the furious people had been weighing on his mind most heavily of late. Something had to be done, something to show them the true enemy, and that Cloud and Sephiroth were the victims. But it could not look forced or contrived. That would be disastrous.

"Yeah, what else is new?" Cloud muttered. "We're always in trouble."

"Can't argue there." Zack gave a weak smirk.

"The entire town is in a riot," Merlin said, "and that Kala-Ansa person isn't helping." Slowly he shook his head. "I don't have any doubt that she intends to make life as miserable for all of you as she can. William's presence won't help, either, I imagine."

"Probably not." Zack frowned. "But we can't just abandon him, if he's really gone against Hojo!"

Merlin held up his hands. "Oh no! I'm not saying that at all. Of course that isn't an option."

"I don't see that there's anything that can be done," Sephiroth said. "The people will think what they will. When they're so hard-hearted, and rooted in hatred and prejudice, nothing will change their minds."

Merlin sighed. "That's sadly true for some," he agreed, "but not all of them are that way. Most people are good, and for them there is a chance. Sometimes they can surprise you." He smiled a bit behind his beard. "That's what is so wonderful about this world."

"That's about as cheesy as something Zack would say," Cloud complained.

Merlin gave him a stern look. "Then maybe you should listen more!" he scolded.

"Cheese is good for you!" Zack smirked.

"Yeah, sure." Cloud rolled his eyes.

"Is there anything else we can do for this clone?" he asked, looking back to the sleeping form. 721 had not stirred, curled in as tight of a ball as he had been able to manage. Very unlike Sephiroth.

"Probably not until he wakes up," Merlin said. "Though . . . maybe another quilt would be good for him. And a hot water bottle."

"I'm on it!" Zack chirped. "Seph, why don't you come with me? I kinda think the quilts are buried under a stack of sheets and stuff." And it would give him a chance to speak to Seph in private about what had happened with Mathews. He was certainly going to tell Cloud as well, but some things about this arrangement were troubling him, and he wanted to discuss them with the one who would understand exactly what he was talking about.

Sephiroth received the silent message. "Let's go then," he said.

* * *

The closet in the upstairs hall was stacked with every kind of cloth imaginable---pillowcases, sheets, a few blankets, and quilts. Of course, the quilts had somehow wound up at the bottom---which was especially strange considering that they did not use blankets much. The sheets, however, had probably gained the surface when Zack had seen to it that every bed had new ones at the start of this week.

Zack explained the situation as they walked up the stairs and to the door. Sephiroth listened, opening the door and lifting up the stacks of bedding holding down the comforters. But, knowing that they needed to hurry, and having another part of the experience on his mind for the moment, Zack opted to leave out the truth of Mathews' past alliance with Hojo. Seph would be furious by that news, as would Cloud. Zack would tell them later tonight, when there was more time.

"So . . . that's how it happened," Zack concluded. He set his cane aside, reaching for a quilt. "I went over there and bawled the guy out. And I was gonna leave then, but Mathews stopped me. He was acting funny again---well, a different kind of funny---and said that I could send out the troops after all. Then he told me that he was gonna give me all the power, and that he'd be above me in official rank only. I was gonna talk to the troops about going to look for Hojo, like storming the castle or something, but I was just so bowled over. . . . I thought I'd like to come back and talk to you first." He frowned, pulling the comforter into his arms.

Sephiroth set the sheets down again. "That's a lot of responsibility," he said, shutting the door and heading for the bathroom.

Zack hurried after him, standing in the doorway as he took out a hot water bottle and began to fill it with water from the tap. The brunet shifted his weight, clutching the softness of the quilt close to him.

". . . If you were still in the military, Seph, it'd probably be you in my position," he said, his voice quiet. "You already had a lot of the power that I have now . . . except for the thing about being able to override Mathews."

Sephiroth frowned, shaking his head. "That would have never happened," he said. "Mathews never liked me. The last thing he would want to do is to give me any kind of power over him."

Zack sighed, running his mouth over the quilt. "I just feel like I'm taking something away from you, Seph," he said.

Sephiroth finished filling the hot water bottle. He snapped in the cork, but left the object sitting on the counter as he turned to Zack. His green eyes were serious.

"You aren't taking anything away from me," he said. "You have a chance that I never could have had. You defied Mathews and won. Maybe this will even do some good for me and Cloud, and any clones on our side. I know you'll use this power to the best of your ability." He laid a hand on Zack's shoulder.

At last Zack smiled. "Yeah . . . 'course I will!" he chirped. "I'll see to it that Hojo's stopped."

Sephiroth nodded in approval. "And you haven't told me everything," he remarked. "I have a hard time believing Mathews would have handed over his power just going by the sketchy details you gave. What else is there?"

Zack sighed. Of course he would know that he could not fool Seph, even for a short while. "It's pretty bad, Seph," he said. "We need to get back down there now, but I'm going to tell you and Cloud the first chance I get. You both need to know."

Sephiroth grunted. He did not like the sound of that. He picked up the hot water bottle, clicking off the light as he walked down the hall again. Zack chased after him.

* * *

As they gained the bottom of the stairs a short moment later, Zack looked over in surprise. 721 was stirring, his wings spreading out as he began to uncurl his long legs. He reached up with a hand, grasping the top of the couch as he pulled himself up halfway. Slumping against the plush backing, he let his left wing fall across his legs. His eyes opened, gazing in awe around the room and its occupants. He looked as though it was incomprehensible that he was somewhere safe and warm.

Noticing the expression, Zack suddenly felt sad. No one should have to feel like that. And for 721 to be newly created and to have not known kindness and caring was a horrible, heart-wrenching thing. It made his determination to do right all the more amazing.

"Where am I?" 721 asked.

"Our house!" Zack chirped, limping forward. "I'm Zack Fair."

"Cloud Strife," Cloud grunted with a nod.

The clone regarded them and their friends in amazement. One in particular had caught his attention. "And you're Sephiroth," he declared, with reverence in his voice. There was no doubt---this was not a clone. This was the original. And he was not a bad man. That was obvious from his eyes.

Sephiroth nodded. "Yes."

"You're safe here," Merlin told him. "How do you feel?"

"I'm . . . alright," 721 said. His burns were bothering him, but he was not about to say that. Pushing himself up all the way, he slumped further into the couch. His upper wing twitched with the motion.

Now he noticed the spirit in the room as well. "Who are you?" he asked, stunned by this development. When he had been dragging himself to this home, he had wondered what would happen to clones after death. He had already determined that he would not die, but the thoughts had crept into his mind anyway. White Coat, and even the other clones themselves, had acted as though there was not much to their existence. If that was true, then what awaited clones in the next life? This one seemed at peace.

"I'm Aeolus," was the response. "I was one of the first successful clones."

"You have a name?" 721 blinked.

"Yes," Aeolus nodded, smiling a bit. "You may have one too, if you would like."

"What would you think of 'William'?" Merlin asked, going on to explain his reasoning.

The clone listened in fascination. A name was another thing he had longed for upon his creation. He had not wanted to be recognized solely by a number, the way a robot would be. He had wanted to protest when White Coat had announced his "name" as Seven-Twenty-One, but had not known what else to do. And so he had clung to that number as his identification. But now he had something else, something with meaning and dignity.

"I like it," he said.

"Then William it is," Merlin declared.

"William. . . ." The awed William smiled. He was being offered everything by these people. They had treated his wounds, let him sleep on the soft couch, and now bestowed a name. To say he was happy was almost trite, and certainly an understatement. This was where he belonged.

"What happened to you?" he asked, looking at Aeolus. "I mean . . ."

"Why I'm dead?" Aeolus supplied.

William nodded, looking uncomfortable. Maybe it was not his place to ask, he worried. Aeolus might take offense.

But the older clone seemed to take it in stride. "I gave my life to save Cloud and Zack," he said. "I don't regret it."

William understood. It was the same feeling he had had when saving the apartment complex dwellers. He would have died for them, if it had come to that. Even though he longed to live.

"I want to help fight these madmen," William said in earnest. "I don't like fighting my brothers, but if they can't see the light, then I'll have to. I know where they're staying."

"Is it still at the castle?" Zack asked.

"Yes," said William. "If there was a surprise attack, we could weaken their forces immensely."

"I could see to that!" Zack said.

"That won't solve all our problems," Cloud said, glancing to Merlin. "The townspeople will still think we're as bad as all the rest. Maybe they'll freak out even more if they see there really is a clone army."

"One problem at a time," Merlin said.

Sephiroth had been silent, observing it all. It was still strange, to have two total look-alikes of himself in the house, but that was not foremost on his mind. He was watching Zack, who was shifting about the way he did when he was anxious. Zack was still nervous about his new responsibility. But he would handle it well. He was the only one who could get this job done properly. Mathews certainly could not.

Sephiroth reached out, laying his hand on his dear friend's shoulder as he gave a gentle squeeze. Zack looked up at him, a weak grin coming over his features in response. Everything would go alright. It had to.

* * *

It seemed that the Ice Queen was not satisfied with the current layers of white that covered Hollow Bastion in a frozen blanket. The snow was beginning to fall again, and with determination. Already most footprints were gone, buried under the powder. More residents were starting fires, the gray smoke rising from countless chimneys. Others were baking warm bread or concocting hot chocolate.

Zack stood overlooking the soldiers on the grounds of the base. The wind, picking up speed, was sending the flakes tumbling and flying all over themselves. But even though they were ramming into each of the cold men, their attention was focused completely on their commander. Even those who were not in Zack's unit and did not know him well esteemed him in the highest possible way.

Zack wished that all of them could be inside, enjoying a good meal. But instead there was a grave task to be done.

"Okay," he cried, keeping his voice raised to be heard over the snow. "Now General Mathews has given me a command to oversee this thing. And I've already talked to Commander Rogers about leading you guys in battle. You know I'd come with you if I could." Again he hated his injury. He would only be a burden in a full-scale battle.

"There's a mad scientist in the castle. And he's been making lots of the clones, the ones that are burning places down and blaming Seph. And it's been working, too. A lot of people are hating him even more than ever, and I'm just sick of it.

"All of you know Seph. Some of you were with me on that mission when I disappeared and he came looking for me along with Cloud and Sora. You saw that he's the same guy who used to lead you in battle! He's the same guy you went to when you had a problem and wanted to talk it over with someone who was experienced enough to get it! He's the same guy who made sure that all of you were treated fairly. Do you want to see him getting blamed for stuff he'd never do?"

The troops cried out in response, "No, sir!"

"Do you want to see those clones burning everything down, hurting people and leaving them homeless?" Zack went on.

Again came the resounding, "No, sir!"

Zack raised his sword, while leaning on his cane with his other hand. "Then let's stop them." He looked over the large body of men. He always hated sending them into battle, wondering which of them would make it alive and which would sacrifice their mortal existence. But they were all ready and willing to pay whatever price necessary.

"Be careful. The clones are really tricky, and they can do almost everything Seph can do. But don't kill any clones that act hesitant to hurt you. They might end up agreeing to help us," he directed. There had to be more like Aeolus and William among so many. And they deserved their chances at life.

"And see if you can keep Hojo alive too," he added, almost as an afterthought. "I wanna see him get put on trial for all the stuff he's pulled. But kill him if you have to."

"Yes, sir!" The men raised their weapons, too.

". . . Commander Fair?"

Zack blinked, looking towards the one who had spoken. "Yeah?" he answered. He was notorious for slipping into informalities at unorthodox times, which was one of the quirks that had always frustrated Mathews. But even when that happened, he never made light of a subject that should be kept serious.

"Sir, you said that the clones can do almost everything General Sephiroth can," the soldier said. "What is it that they can't do? That might be important, sir."

Zack paused, then gave a slow nod. It was a good question. "Well, the hardcore ones aren't kind like him," he said with a sad smile. "Some of them don't act like they know what it even means, to show respect for others." And maybe if they had been indoctrinated by Hojo all of their lives, it was at least somewhat understandable. Some of them obviously did not use their free will, or even realize they possessed it. They followed Hojo blindly, believing all that he said was true. And that was tragic.

But those who did recognize their free will should have better reasoning power. Again Zack felt a surge of anger towards the intolerant townspeople. If they were honestly afraid because they did not know the winged men, that was one thing. But when they got downright hateful and mean for no good reason, then Zack was furious.

The soldier nodded. "Yes, sir," he said, bringing Zack back to the present.

"Alright!" Zack cried now. "Get out there and stop this reign of terror! And then get back here."

His expression softened as the men collectively saluted him. He returned the gesture, and Commander Rogers called out orders. Doing an about-face, they turned in the direction of the castle and began to march. Though the anxiety and fear showed in their eyes, it was absent from their steps. All of them were marching in perfect sync with each other.

Zack's shoulders slumped. "God help them," he murmured. "And man . . . I wish I could, too."


	7. We Look to You Still

**Notes: Thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help!  
**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

**We Look to You Still**

The tension throughout the army could be felt in the air. As Commander Rogers called the troops to a halt in front of the castle, there were muttered curses from some, prayers from others. It had been Hollow Bastion's pride for many years after it had been built, but now, with the backdrop of the swirling flakes, it appeared a wretched demon with outstretched limbs, waiting to drag everyone present into an endless abyss of darkness. The lights that could be seen in some of the rooms were as glowing and ominous eyes that studied the soldiers, glinting in sadistic delight.

Kazuki, who had been promoted to Sergeant, shifted in nervousness. In his hands he clutched at his sword. What would be waiting beyond those doors? Commander Fair had told them of the General Sephiroth clones. He had believed that it was true ever since he had heard of the first fire. The General himself never would do such things! But now that the battle was at hand, the anxiety swelled. The General was so powerful. If the clones were all as strong as him, then they were in for it.

Before Commander Rogers could give the order to charge at the doors and attack, they began to creak open. The men gasped, staring up into the darkness of the great hall. For a moment nothing was visible. Then the sound of many beating wings filled the air. Countless black-clothed entities flew into the sky at once, their blue wings a great sea as they continuously flapped. It would be a beautiful sight, if not for what it signified.

A private gave a horrified cry. "There really is a clone army!"

"Did you ever doubt it?" Sergeant Kazuki returned, his teeth clenched.

"No . . . but how will we ever fight them all?" the private moaned. "Especially if they stay in the air?!"

Kazuki's eyes narrowed. That was a definite concern, but what bothered him more was how ready all of them were. The clones had expected this scene to take place. Already they were gathering their power to them.

A pillar of fire formed without warning in the center of the group. Several men screamed as they leaped aside, alive but already badly burned. As more began to appear, the scene repeated itself again and again. The pained cries were burned into Kazuki's ears.

"Attack!" Commander Rogers screamed. Though he had to keep his cool in the heat of the battle, the tautness of his voice revealed his deep and growing concern. They were not prepared for this.

Arrows soared into the sky. A few hit their marks, the clones' bodies dropping lifelessly to the ground many feet below. Some clones hit the frozen water around the castle, breaking through the ice and sinking beneath the surface. But many of the arrows never reached their targets. They were burned in mid-air. The many Sephiroth copies smirked, pleased.

"They're powering up again," the private exclaimed.

"Then we'll power up right back," Kazuki retorted.

Javelins leaped into the air next. One clone screamed in agony as it was caught right in the chest. Another tumbled out of the sky with the weapon having badly wounded a wing. And as before, many more of the missiles were set aflame. For every clone that fell, three more seemed to appear. And without being able to fight them on the ground, the army's options were limited. As more pillars of fire shot from the ground, the anguished screams of the soldiers rent the air once more.

"We've been sent to our deaths!" Corporal Edwards cried. "There's no hope!"

"If you give up now, then there really isn't!" Kazuki shot back.

But even as he whispered a desperate prayer, his own heart felt weak. The clones had many advantages, and they were using them to the fullest extent that they could. The army's best chance was probably their cannons, and even then, they would not be able to take out very many. And what about the teleportation? He had forgotten that aspect, but now, as the third wave of weapons were launched, some of the clones simply disappeared, only to reappear in a position to blast the wielders. Swords could not be used in a battle of this kind! And in this blizzard, the air division could not even take flight. They would have been the military's best hope otherwise.

The clones themselves could not stay in the air for long. They were clustering on the roof and turrets of the castle, a sea of Sephiroths. But when more weapons were fired against them, they were just as deadly there as they were in the sky. Perhaps more so, since they could dive behind the towers and attack more from such covert locations. And, if Kazuki was seeing correctly, more clones had stayed inside the castle and now were launching an assault from the windows.

He dived out of the way as a fireball tore past, where it sizzled and sparked out in the snow. A second was not so harmless. The private who had been so agitated yelled as he was hit in the leg, collapsing into the snow. His immediate companions rushed to assist.

Kazuki turned away. He was trembling now, and it was not only from the cold. With caution he made his way to Commander Rogers, who was staring around him at the sickening displays. "Sir! What can we do?" Kazuki pleaded.

The look on Commander Rogers' face was haunting. "Pray," he murmured, shaking his head. "Pray hard."

Kazuki swallowed, drawing back.

Even their leader had little hope left.

* * *

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes, pulling his coat closer together against the cold. Now even he was becoming susceptible to the elements. The cold only rarely grew fierce enough to bother him, at least on a conscious level. Most of the time he did not allow it to rake its icy claws through his flesh, and when he was chilled, he ignored it. But he could not ignore this.

He did not want to be outside in this storm. Mostly it was for Zack's peace of mind, though Zack had not wanted him to go outside either. But with the majority of the army in active combat, there were not many soldiers left to patrol the city. And the clones would probably take advantage of that. It would be foolish to believe that all of them would be in the castle.

Some of the hateful townspeople were out as well. They were screaming obscenities at Sephiroth, waving their shovels, rakes, and whatever else they were using as weapons. He ignored their words, but kept alert. Someone in a fit of madness could lunge at him with their gardening tool. He did not trust any of them. Why should he? They did not trust him, and they were allowing their misinformation to drive them out of their senses.

As he turned a corner, a small, panicked form slammed into him. He grunted in surprise, reaching to steady what must be a child. A tear-stained, hazel-eyed face looked up at him, framed by windblown blonde hair.

He frowned. "What's wrong?" he demanded. "Why aren't you at your home?"

Sun pulled back, grabbing at his hand. "They're coming after me!" she cried. "We have to go!"

He really did not want to go without knowing what was happening. "Who's after you?" he asked, making no move to run.

"My mom," she answered, "and some guy she brought to get rid of the 'spell' you put on me!"

That was not what he wanted to hear. She was clearly terrified, so different from how she had been earlier. And the blindness of her mother was unheard-of.

"What spell?" he wanted to know, his voice still harsh.

"She thinks you spelled me into liking you!" Sun wailed. "She kept me locked up in my room for hours, and then I heard her calling this guy to come over. When he did, they were talking in the hall about what he was going to do, and I listened. I didn't like it at all, so I climbed down the tree by my window and ran off."

The sound of footsteps thundering behind them was all too apparent. There were more than two people. And Sun turned even more pale. How many townspeople had her mother recruited to her cause now? She would stop at nothing to get Sun back and have this procedure performed. And Sun could not bear the sound of it.

"He was going to do some kind of thing with electricity and chanting stuff, and . . ." She gripped tighter at Sephiroth's hand, straining to flee. "Please don't let them take me!"

At last Sephiroth allowed himself to be pulled around the corner. It was not a good idea for them to be seen together. But in good conscience, he could not see himself making her go back to such people. He ran with her, even as the screams behind them grew in volume.

"What do you want me to do?" he said.

"Come with me!" she begged. "You're in danger, too!" She seemed to know where she was going, but with the advancing mob, they were forced to detour.

Sephiroth could hear the voices carried on the wind, and none of what he could make out was good. Kala-Ansa had told the crowd that Sun had been abducted by Sephiroth, and they were bellowing curses and oaths. Green eyes narrowed. He was not afraid for himself, but this would bode ill for the child.

A tall, majestic structure came into view ahead. The many-colored windows glistened from the lights that shone behind their transparent surfaces. A steep staircase rose to the heavy, carved doors at the top. It was a very old building, one that the people had loved and revered and had vowed to make new once Hollow Bastion had begun to be built up again. Now it was as beautiful as before, if not more.

Sephiroth stared as he realized Sun was running towards it.

"A cathedral?" he exclaimed.

"We can ask for sanctuary!" Sun said with confidence, as she started to bound up the steps.

Sephiroth kept up in perfect time. "I don't think that applies to us," he grunted, half-sardonic.

In any case, he did not want to hide behind anything or anyone. He had a mission to complete, and friends to return to. He would never abandon them by seeking safety for himself. But he would humor Sun for a short while, to make sure that she would be safe.

Anyway, he doubted that he was worthy to enter such a place. Why would God want someone such as him to be in a building thought of as holy? Wouldn't he taint it? If he was alone, he would never go inside.

At the top, Sun let go of his hand, grasping the ornate handle with both of hers. She pulled it open, then waited for Sephiroth. "Are you coming?" she asked. "We have to get inside right now, before they come and see! They'd never think you'd go in a church."

Sephiroth had to smirk. Well, that was probably true. And in spite of any misgivings he held, he could not waste time. He slipped inside, keeping his wings close to his body. Sun was right at his side, shutting the heavy door once they were within the chapel. Even though she tried to keep it quiet, the sound echoed through the spacious room and off the ceiling many stories above them.

Sephiroth looked upward. There was a domed roof over part of this room, with stained-glass paneling that depicted haloed angels in flight. The detail to their wings was quite impressive.

Sun tugged on his hand. "See?" she said, pointing at the scene. "Wings aren't bad."

A quiet smile played on Sephiroth's lips for a moment. She was trying to make him feel better. And she honestly believed what she was saying.

But he shook his head. "This isn't the same thing," he said. "I'm not an angel."

Sun frowned. "Well . . . you're not a demon."

Now he gave a wry smirk. "Quite a few people would disagree with you."

"They're wrong." She peered up at him. "What do you think you are?"

"I'm just a man." Sephiroth looked away.

A man with wings. Did that automatically make him a monster? Once he would have believed it. He had since learned to accept his feathery appendages and acknowledge their usefulness. But still, humans were not to possess such things. Maybe he was a monster.

Slowly he walked ahead of Sun, studying the elaborate murals and sculptures. His mind was wandering. Why would God allow people to be persecuted, if it was not a punishment? Yet that would not make sense, either. Zack did not deserve condemnation. And many other good souls suffered in life. Was it so that they would learn from their experiences and grow stronger? But if so, did that mean that they would have to continue going on like this, with no relief in sight?

He would not ask for anything to be done to help himself. But he would request it for Zack and Cloud. And perhaps William. Though Cloud was right---he did not feel worthy to offer a prayer. And it felt very uncomfortable to be in his current location, in spite of the serenity that was there as well. He did not belong.

Even at this late hour, there was a handful of assorted people in the sanctuary. A couple were praying or meditating. A couple more were wandering through the corridors, the same as Sephiroth was doing. They glanced over with curiosity, but to his surprise their gazes were not cold and hard. If anything, they looked sympathetic.

But he did not want pity, either.

Now Sun hurried to catch up to him again. "I come here a lot, when I just want to think," she said, "or to be by myself. Mom doesn't know it. Nobody does, except you." She suddenly sounded shy. "It's quiet here. It's nice."

Sephiroth was silent. "You can't stay here forever," he said then.

She frowned. "I can't go back there, either."

No, he supposed not. And he did not want to be involved at all. The problem was, he was already far too involved.

He reached up, massaging his eyes. Kala-Ansa had swiftly become one of the people he disliked most, but he would never want to take her child from her. The way Sun had described the exorcist, or whatever the man was, was disconcerting. But maybe it was not the way she had said. He did not want to be the one to judge. He had really only humored the girl because he had known it would have been impossible to get her to return home at that point.

Still . . . was sending her back the wrong thing to do? What if the man was as she had said, or worse? If he returned her to a situation that was truly abusive, he would be disgusted with himself. And by then it might be too late to save her.

Maybe he should leave her here and let the priests deal with the problem. If she was around frequently, then they might have gotten acquainted with her and would know how to handle this dilemma better than he.

He slumped into a pew, letting his upper wing hang over the back of it. Sun hesitated a moment, then climbed up next to him.

"I know my mom loves me," she said, her voice soft. "But . . . I don't know . . . she scares me sometimes. Like this whole thing about the winged people. It's like she's obsessed with hurting them, and especially you, and . . . I just can't stand to see that! You haven't even done anything wrong."

"I've done plenty wrong. Just not what they think."

"Yeah. That's what I mean." She shivered lightly in the spacious room.

Sephiroth sighed, bringing his lower left wing to cover her small form. She snuggled under it in bliss.

". . . Something so pretty can't be bad," she said, running a finger over the down on the inside of the wing. "They are like angel wings. And you use them for good!"

Sephiroth grunted. "That sounds like Zack," he said, the wing twitching from the touch.

"Zack must be nice," she said, leaning against him. The long day was beginning to take its toll on her. It felt nice to just sit here and feel safe for a while. It was a really miserable thing, when one could not feel secure at home. But Sephiroth would not let them hurt her. She knew he would not.

She closed her eyes. "I wish Mom could see what you're really like," she said in wistfulness.

"She has seen. She won't believe it."

"Yeah . . ." Sun opened her eyes again. "I forgot. I wasn't supposed to talk to you again. That's what you said."

"And I meant it." But under the circumstances of their second meeting, the vow of silence had not really been an option. Hearing the mob coming after her had prompted him to act. But he still did not know if he had done the right thing.

Now the girl was silent. He frowned, glancing down at her. She had dozed.

Well, this was an awkward situation. He was sitting in a church with a runaway snuggled against him, and an angry throng of frenzied people were storming around outside, looking for her.

How did he get into disasters like this?

"Can I help you?"

He started. A priest was walking over to him, an expression of kindness and concern on his face. The man took in the scene as a whole, not seeming startled to see the child nestled under a deep blue wing. He did not seem surprised to see the wings, either, for that matter.

But Sephiroth felt many times more uncomfortable. "No . . . thank you," he said.

The clergyman nodded. ". . . She comes here often," he remarked, looking to Sun. "She's a quiet child, but she seems to find peace within these walls."

Sephiroth let his gaze travel around the room. For a moment his vision rested on another stained glass depiction of angels, but he averted it as soon as he consciously realized.

"You feel that you don't belong," the priest surmised.

"Yes," Sephiroth said. "I don't." And it was an understatement.

"The honest in heart are always welcome."

Heh . . . honest in heart? Was he? Well . . . he was not a liar, in any case. If he had tried to make himself fit in or belong, then he would be living a falsehood. Unless coming in here to begin with was the biggest falsehood of all.

". . . Your church won't be well-received, for allowing one of the winged demons inside," Sephiroth answered at last.

The priest gave a quiet smile. "'Man looketh on the outward appearance,'" he quoted, "'but the Lord looketh on the heart.'"

"I suppose." Sephiroth glanced toward the window. The angry cries outside were becoming more pronounced.

". . . This girl ran away from home." He did not know why he had said that. Did he want another's opinion on what he should do, or did he just want the priest to be aware of the situation for when he himself left?

A nod. "Do you know why?" The clergyman's voice was calm and unassuming.

"Yes." Sephiroth looked down at her again. Unless she was ungodly exhausted, the talking would probably wake her up soon.

"Is it a situation that would endanger her well-being?"

Sephiroth sighed, tired himself. "I don't know. It could be. On the other hand, it could be worse for her if she doesn't go back." He watched her sleeping form. "In any case, she isn't ready to even consider returning."

Another nod. "She's most welcome to stay here as long as she needs to. And that invitation applies to you, as well." The priest met Sephiroth's gaze as he looked up again.

"Thank you. But I have to leave." Zack would be worried sick if he did not return soon. And Cloud would be concerned, too.

"You might have some trouble getting away," the priest commented, looking to the slumbering child. "She's gotten so fond of you."

Sephiroth began to pull his wing aside. Sun did not stir. Carefully he placed his hands on the child's shoulders, easing her back from him. She mumbled in her sleep, but did not awaken. She would probably be crushed when she roused up and saw that Sephiroth was not with her. But how could he wait? He could not even call Zack. Telephone service was down because of the storm.

Taking her back with him was not an option. If Kala-Ansa should find them, then it would be horrendous for them all.

Gently he laid her down on the pew. As he began to rise, he ran a hand over his face. This was such a frustrating situation. He had never had a child look up to him like this. And he did not want to let her down, but he had his own responsibilities. Not to mention that he had to think of what would be best for her in the long run.

"Sephiroth?"

He turned, frowning. Sun was blinking up at him, the sadness and worry obvious in her eyes.

"You're not staying?"

He shook his head. "No. I need to go. But you'll be safe here." He paused. "Unless you want to go home. Your mother will be worried about you. You said yourself that you know she loves you."

She shook her head. "I don't want to go back if that man's there!" she protested. "If he was gone, then it'd be okay, but I don't know." She looked away. She was somewhat scared of her mother, too, after such an outburst. If Kala-Ansa would resort to bringing in such a person to deal with a non-existent spell, then what else might she do? Sun did not know how she could deal with it right now.

Sephiroth sighed. "Then stay here until you're ready."

She knelt up. "I want to go with you," she pleaded.

"That would only be foolish. Think of how much worse it would be for you if your mother found you with me."

She bit her lip. "Why do you have to go?" she asked. "You'd be safe here, too. . . ."

He sighed. Dealing with children was so complicated. What could he say? . . . The truth was best, he supposed.

"I have friends who are worried about me," he said. "I can't contact them to let them know I'm alright. I was out patrolling the city in case another fire had been started, and that's been some time ago now."

Her eyes flickered with understanding. "Okay," she said slowly, even though she was still reluctant to see him leave. She shifted. ". . . Can I hug you?" she wanted to know, looking up with lost eyes.

That was not what he had expected at all. And he was not fond of physical contact. But if it would make it easier for her to adjust, then so be it.

He bent down to her eye level. Shyly she scooted forward, throwing her arms around his neck. The tears leaked from her eyes as she rested her head against his shoulder, her hands amid the soft hair. She did not want to let him go. Her life was being torn asunder, and she had never been so frightened. But she knew he was right. She should not come with him.

A different idea leaped into Sephiroth's mind. He reached up, pulling her arms free with gentleness as he drew her back to look into her eyes. She blinked at him, confused.

"What if you were to go with Merlin?" he suggested. "The Restoration Committee stays at his house. I'm acquainted with all of them, and I know you would be welcome there."

She brightened. "You'd take me there?" she asked.

He hesitated, then nodded. "Of course we'll need to talk to him about it first," he said. "And normal travel isn't wise, for several reasons." The wind howled outside, mixed with the screams of the mob. "I will have to take you by teleportation. Would that bother you?"

She shook her head. "Let's go!" she exclaimed.

He straightened up, keeping a firm hold on the child's hands. He could feel her keen excitement and joy that she would not have to be left here by herself. She was probably starved for attention. Kala-Ansa was always so busy. And he had sensed her fear over the situation. She did not want to abruptly be parted from someone whom she was getting to know. From what she had said before, she probably did not even associate much with anyone other than her mother and now Sephiroth.

The priest gave a quiet smile. "God be with you," he said.

Sephiroth had almost forgotten his presence. He glanced over, nodding once, before teleporting out with Sun.

The clergyman stared in thoughtfulness at the place where they had been. "That man is destined for great things," he mused aloud. "His powers are a gift."

* * *

Andrew Stoner had been mayor of Hollow Bastion for the past two years, and by and large, the people felt that he had done well. Now, as he paced back and forth in front of his home office's window, the twin problems of the fires and the winged people were weighing on his mind. He was under increasing pressure to do something about both, and he was growing to feel that he was at a loss. There were extra firefighters on call, and the police had been instructed to always be on guard for a new fire. That was the best he could do for that problem.

But as for the winged people, how could he ban them all because of what a few were doing? By all accounts, there had definitely been three clones at the latest fire, and one of them had refused to participate. Why should he be punished? And there was Sephiroth, too. Mayor Stoner was not familiar with the man at all, but supposedly he was the same person who had been a great general before going Missing In Action six years ago. That wandering swordsman Cloud Strife was one of Sephiroth's best friends. And though he obviously had great strength, he did not seem like a threat to the people. In contrast to public opinion, they had both helped Hollow Bastion by battling whatever threats came through. Plus, they were both friends of Commander Zack Fair, and he was a good judge of people. In his position, he needed to be.

"Mayor, do stop pacing and concentrate."

He frowned, looking over at his guests. Kala-Ansa was standing on the other side of his desk, her arms crossed in impatience. Next to her was the man she had found who knows where. He studied the scene with appraising eyes, as if determining whether the mayor was fit for his position. Mayor Stoner found him insulting, even though he had not spoken beyond introductions.

"I am concentrating," he objected. "But you understand, I can't always be fulfilling your personal whims. I have to think about the greater good."

Kala-Ansa's eyes flashed. "Mayor, my daughter is missing," she said. "She ran off, and more than likely she was then spirited away by that demon Sephiroth."

"And why did she run away, if I may ask?" the mayor countered.

"She refused to let the spell cast on her be taken away," Kala-Ansa said in indignation.

No wonder his headaches came so frequently, Stoner thought to himself. Aloud he said, "How do you know there was a spell?"

For a good moment Kala-Ansa was altogether flustered, stammering as she attempted to reign herself in. "What other explanation is there?" she retorted. "Sun has always been a good girl. But now she's idolizing that winged wretch!"

Stoner frowned. "Is there any reason to dislike Sephiroth, other than his wings?" he asked.

"That's reason enough!" Kala-Ansa cried. "You've seen how horrible these winged people are. These clones are likely operating under Sephiroth's direction."

"But that doesn't even make sense," Stoner objected. "Why would Sephiroth want himself to be blamed?"

"I can't be expected to know the mind of a madman like that!" Kala-Ansa fumed.

Her eyes narrowed as her tone turned ice cold. "Do remember, Mayor Stoner, I financed your campaign," she said. "You never would have gotten anywhere if not for me. And if you plan to run for re-election, you will need me again. But you'll never have my support if you let these winged monsters roam freely. Also, surely you've heard the townspeople screaming for Sephiroth's blood. You wouldn't want them yelling the same thing about you, would you?"

Stoner gritted his teeth. She would do it, too. He did not trust her. He had never wanted to accept her money, but when she had been the only one willing to help him get ahead, he had finally agreed. To be her puppet, however, was the last thing he wanted. He would not agree to do something that he could not accept in full conscience, when to do so would likely harm innocent people. Kala-Ansa's request was preposterous.

"We'll let the people decide," he said then, "whether they're strong enough to resist your lies, or weak enough for fall for them. It's true that they can't accept Sephiroth, but they don't know or trust him. They don't believe he was their General. But they know who I am. And I'm going to trust them." He fixed Kala-Ansa with a firm stare. "If I decide to run for re-election, I won't need your help or money to do it."

Her expression contained thinly veiled poison. "Is that your final answer, Mayor?"

He nodded. "It is."

They stood for a long moment, their eyes clashing, their opposite wills strong and firm. The quiet occupant of the room was forgotten. It was only the two of them. And in their silent exchange, the message was clear. Neither would back down from their viewpoint. This was a draw.

A knock on the door brought them back to the full reality of the situation. "Come in," Stoner called.

In walked his maid, her expression troubled. "Sir, this fax just came through," she said in solemnity, holding out a sheet of paper. "It's bad news."

Stoner accepted the paper, frowning at her announcement. "That's just what we need," he muttered. "More bad news." As he looked over the fax, his countenance paled.

_Our army has just been beaten back by an opposing unit made up entirely of_

_Sephiroth clones. They seemed to know we were coming. The survivors were_

_forced to run for their lives, taking their wounded with them. The clones have _

_gone back into the castle. Is there no way to stop this?_

Kala-Ansa, reading over his shoulder, seemed more triumphant at the news than enraged. "Are you sure you won't reconsider, Mayor?" she commented. "Is this not proof of my words? All of the winged creatures are barbaric."

Stoner walked to his desk, slumping into his chair as he leaned forward. His fingers traveled through his hair. At last he looked up.

"The clones in the castle have to be stopped," he said. "That goes without saying. And the mastermind behind this scheme must be brought to justice. But no, I will not have every winged person banned from this city. That is unfair and unkind."

The brown eyes flashed in anger. "What about my daughter?" Kala-Ansa demanded.

"Have you notified the police?" Stoner asked in weariness. "What if Sephiroth didn't take her at all? This storm is serious. She could be somewhere affected by it, while you're wasting valuable time chasing after a poor man who probably hasn't done anything wrong."

Kala-Ansa's eyes narrowed to slits. "Very well, then," she said, turning as she stormed to the door. The strange, silent man was right on her heels.

Stoner frowned to himself. What she would do now was another entry on his list of concerns. Almost certainly she would not abandon the idea of Sephiroth as the culprit. But if she would at least consider other possibilities, then she might begin to get somewhere. And maybe the mayor would not have to be so concerned. There were so many other things he needed to put his mind to, without one woman making it all worse.

* * *

Zack ran a trembling hand over his face. In his other hand he clutched an already-worn piece of paper. It was the same fax that Mayor Stoner had received. It had been sent by Commander Rogers a few short moments ago, and since receiving it, Zack had been feeling increasingly ill.

He had sent the army into that devastation. So many were dead now, and so many others were wounded. And they had barely made a dent in the clone army. Of course Mathews had not been right in letting the Master Clone manipulate him, but had it been the right thing to not launch an assault? Now the situation was so very much worse.

As Cloud came into the room, his blue eyes narrowed in concern. Zack was chalk white. The paper gripped in his hand was shaking.

"Zack! What's wrong?!" Cloud gasped, staring at his childhood friend. As quick as he could, he began to limp over to the couch.

Zack shook his head. "I sent them into that," he choked out. "That was the first thing I did with this power. I thought I knew what I was doing. I thought that was the only chance we had. Oh _God_, I sent them into that!"

Cloud eased himself onto the couch, taking the sheet from Zack's fingers. He scanned it over, his stomach beginning to knot. It was as if the few lines had started a feeling of iciness that crept up his hands and into his bloodstream. The clone army had been prepared for an attack. What did that mean? Was there a spy in their midst? If so, who could it be? William had been right there the whole time, and now was asleep once more, in the guest room. And Aeolus had been watching over him. It could not have been him. And Aeolus would never betray them.

And Zack. . . . Cloud set the paper aside, staring at the brunet. He had rarely seen Zack this distraught, and he never knew how to handle it. Especially now. He was not, and had never been, in the military. He could not fully understand the pressures of making such hard decisions. But he had to do something. It was unbearable, to see Zack like this!

He reached out, laying a hand on Zack's shoulder and gripping firmly. "Zack . . ." He could feel Zack freezing under his grasp. He ran his tongue over his lips.

"Zack, it was the only thing we knew to do. How could any of us have known the clones would be ready for us?"

"At least we should've thought," Zack said. "I should've. And I should've been there with them. I just left them to face it all by themselves!"

The feeling of helplessness increased. "What about your leg?" Cloud asked. "How could you fight with your leg?"

"I could've done something!" Zack protested. "Shot arrows, or lit the cannons, or . . . !"

"You're terrible with a bow and arrow." Cloud sighed. "And what about during the retreat? You wouldn't have been able to move as fast as the others. You would've probably been a burden."

Zack's shoulders slumped. "Yeah, I know. But . . . I keep feeling like I could've done_something_, not just sending them off thinking they'd win."

As Sephiroth teleported in, he overhead this part of the conversation. His own mood was very somber, having learned the news from a fax at Merlin's home. And he had wanted to hurry home as soon as possible. He had known Zack's devastation would be great. Sephiroth could still remember the first time he himself had led the army into a losing battle. And he had been fighting beside them. Zack's pain would be all the more intense, when he had not even been able to assist.

Without bothering to say Hello, he walked over to the couch and sat on Zack's other side. "There really isn't anything that can be said to make you feel better," he said, his voice quiet. "Words sound so hollow in the face of tragedy." He grasped Zack's other shoulder.

Zack started, looking up at his other best friend. A bit of relief swept in, dulling the anguish for the moment. "Seph . . ." He tried to grin. "You're okay! Oh man, we were getting worried. I was gonna have Aeolus go looking for you."

Sephiroth gave a slow nod. "I'm fine," he answered.

He hesitated. "There is one thing I should tell you," he said. "And it may sound hollow to you now, but it's the best advice I can give. I heard it myself when I was despondent over leading my men into a battle that we lost."

Zack blinked. At his side, Cloud was surprised as well.

"You have to keep on," Sephiroth said. "You still have your duties. If you were to give up, then you actually would be abandoning your men, as you already fear you did."

Zack swallowed. "I don't feel worthy, Seph," he objected. "Maybe . . . maybe Mathews should take back what he said."

"No!" Sephiroth's voice was firm. He looked into Zack's eyes. "This power has fallen to you for a reason. You are better qualified than Mathews ever has been. You acted upon the only information you had and chose what you thought was best. That's all anyone can do. No, it won't turn out right every time. Sometimes there are sacrifices, grievous prices to pay. But that doesn't mean you've done something wrong."

Cloud nodded. "Sephiroth's right," he said.

At last Zack gave a slow nod as well. It would be some time before he could fully accept Seph's words, and Seph knew that. But Seph was telling him now, anyway. Seph knew that Zack needed to hear it now, and that he should not wait until Zack felt ready.

Zack was so immeasurably thankful for his best buddies.


	8. The Tattered, The Torn

**Notes: Thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help! And if anything looks like a Disney movie reference, it probably is.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

**The Tattered, The Torn**

Nearly a foot of new snow fell on Hollow Bastion that night. By morning, the residents were discovering their world of white, and they began to go about shoveling it away from their walkways and the public sidewalk. Snowplows went over the main roads, clearing them of the powder and ice. But the side roads still bore their dangerous guests. They would not likely be released until later that day.

Zack had been back to the base during the night, still sick with horror as he had walked among the survivors and helped them with the wounded. Sephiroth had gone with him, and it had made the men happy, to see their two beloved commanders together again on base. None of them blamed Zack for their defeat, of course. They had all wanted to stop the clone army themselves. Zack had only done what he had thought best.

Cloud had opted to stay home with William and Aeolus. It had been peaceful there, and once Zack and Sephiroth had returned, Zack had promptly collapsed into bed. Sephiroth had stayed awake a bit longer, making certain that everything was in order before going to sleep as well. And after Aeolus had promised to come get them if anything went wrong with William, Cloud had at last also succumbed to the urge to slumber. By that time it had become well into the night, and all of them overslept.

* * *

An immense yawn tore free from Cloud's lips as he sat up in bed. The clock radio on the nightstand read _Twelve-Twenty-Five._ He muttered to himself, running a hand through his bangs. It was ordinarily time for lunch, but they would be having breakfast. It sounded like Zack was downstairs in the kitchen now, fixing it.

Would William want to eat? Clones would have to eat, he supposed. After all, why not, when they were living things too? Maybe William would be as awed by food as he was the couch and the bed. He had only had a metal slab at Hojo's laboratory. Having such soft things to lay on amazed him.

And Cloud took it for granted. After seeing William's enthusiasm, he probably should not. To sleep on a soft bed was a wonderful thing.

He threw back the covers, placing his feet on the carpeted floor. It was already growing warm. Zack had turned on the heat upon waking up, apparently. And that was fine with Cloud. He hated going into the bathroom and having the tiles chill his bare feet.

Now, as he shuffled into the hall and to the bathroom, he glowered at the new mirror. They had replaced the old one the other day, after Cloud had slammed his hand into it during the very weird mini-earthquake. And all he could think was that it had better not happen again. He had gotten the message already! He was still fully intent on staying alert for anything to do with ice. And he still hoped there would not be anything to find. Why would he want to have that added to their problems after everything else?

A few moments later he was coming downstairs and entering the kitchen. Zack was doing something at the stove with a skillet and some eggs. Sephiroth was getting some other ingredients out of the fridge. William, apparently, was still in the guest room, not well enough to sit up to the table.

"Hey!" Zack grinned, looking over as Cloud walked in.

The blond nodded in reply. "Hey," he returned. "Smells good."

"It should," Zack smirked. "Mom's omelette recipe."

Cloud nodded. So that was why it also smelled familiar. He remembered having that dish when he had eaten over at Zack's house. They had still been kids then, of course. Zack's mother had died before he had gone into the army. And then his father had been killed in the Heartless attack years later. Zack had consoled himself by saying that at least they were now together again. But Cloud knew he missed them deeply.

"You haven't made that in ages," Cloud said, sitting down at the table. When it came to making food, he would not be much help at all. It was better to sit back and watch.

Zack shrugged. "Just felt like it today."

Sephiroth straightened up, setting the food on the counter. "We have to patrol the city today," he said. "The army won't be able to get everywhere, with their weakened forces." The police were on guard as well, but Sephiroth would feel better to look through the streets himself. Especially since it was clones of himself on the loose.

Cloud nodded again. "We could go after breakfast," he said.

"Wish I could go along," Zack said, his voice wistful. He reached for the carton of milk, pouring a small amount into the skillet.

"Someone living needs to stay with William," Sephiroth said. "Aeolus shouldn't be here by himself."

Zack set the carton down. "Yeah, I know," he acknowledged. "I'm happy to stay here with him, of course. But I can't help wishing . . ." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Naw . . . forget it." He would not make any mention of how frustrated he was with his leg. Instead he grinned, adding a small amount of butter and flour. "Brunch'll be ready pretty quick!" he announced.

"That's good." Cloud glanced at Sephiroth, who gave him a knowing look in return. They both realized what Zack had left unsaid.

And while both of them wanted to help him, neither was sure how to do it. Telling him he needed to keep off his leg more so it might heal was something they already did. And when possible, they tried to ensure that he did exactly that, by taking care of many of the tasks that he would ordinarily do. For a long time Sephiroth had handled the cooking. He still did, at times, but Zack had insisted that he was going crazy without more to do and that he wanted to make at least some of the food again. They had finally compromised by buying a tall stool for him to sit on when he was at work with his culinary skills.

Of course they made sure that he went to every meeting with his physical therapist, too. Sometimes he did not want to or did not feel like it, saying that it really did not help much and that he could get more of the exercises accomplished at home. They did not doubt the truth of those statements, but they still saw to it that he went. Cloud would drive him at times, and Sephiroth would do the same on other occasions, and sometimes he would just teleport. The therapist had actually grown quite accustomed to seeing the patient appear without warning, his blue-winged friend at his side. Wings did not bother her, and she had always been quite congenial to both Sephiroth and Cloud. She had mentioned several times that she was grateful for their determination to get Zack to the appointments.

And Zack had definitely made improvements. He had not been able to walk at all after the shooting, and it had taken some time for him to succeed in getting those first steps down right. Now he could move about quite well, though the pronounced limp was always present.

It had been right after Zack had been allowed to go home after Hojo's attack that Cloud had all but moved in. He had gotten used to sleeping on Zack's couch, or in the chair, whichever happened to be free. The couch had been Sephiroth's domain, but he had let Cloud use it during times when he had been especially exhausted and the chair would not have sufficed. Cloud had been grateful, and sometimes even finding feathers in the cushions had not been much of an annoyance. But it had been a relief for everyone when Zack had decided to have the house remodeled. Even though living around the actual remodeling process had been a pain.

And then Cloud had moved in for real. After all the time spent there, it had not been a difficult adjustment in the least. It had been more difficult the times when he had been back at his old home, all alone; though when he thought of it, he could not even remember if he had ever spent the night there since Zack had been hurt. Oh, he probably had done so a few times, just to have the comfort of a bed again. But in his mind those times blended with when he had been by himself after Sephiroth had recovered and left. It did not really matter now, anyway.

They were a family. A strange and convoluted family, but one nevertheless.

Cloud would not have it any other way.

* * *

The day passed in a relatively calm manner. William was awake and greatly enjoyed the meals, both brunch and a mid-afternoon snack. The day patrol of the town did not reveal any fires or other problems---save more angry residents with yard tools. They waved their snow shovels at Cloud and Sephiroth when the two walked by, yelling curses and telling them to leave Hollow Bastion. Both Cloud and Sephiroth were irritated.

Cloud was confused, too. "What did that one guy mean?" he demanded as they turned a corner.

"Which one?" Sephiroth asked, his voice calm and unassuming.

Cloud rolled his eyes. "The one who called you a blankety-blank kidnapper."

Sephiroth smirked at Cloud's description. "I guess he meant what he said," he answered.

Cloud glowered. "I thought you weren't going to keep me in the dark about stuff anymore," he complained.

Sephiroth shrugged and did not respond. He had not really wanted anyone to know about the Sun angle. To him, that was private and personal. And yet if it was going to continue to be used as venom against him, then Zack and Cloud might become mixed up in it too. They probably did need to know.

By the time they arrived home, he had made his decision. Zack was wide awake, sitting on the couch and staring out the window, when they walked through the door. He looked over, grinning wide with relief.

"Hey!" he greeted. "Everything in shipshape?"

"For now, at least, it's not getting any worse," Sephiroth grunted.

"Who knows what the future will bring," Cloud muttered.

Zack sighed. He half-wanted to make a crack at their pessimism, but he was still feeling depressed about everything himself. With everything that had been happening, it honestly did seem that pessimism was only realism. And he had never thought he would actually admit such a thing, even to himself.

"Someone called me a kidnapper today," Sephiroth remarked, his tone mild.

Zack stared. "Huh?!" He looked from Cloud to Seph. "Why the heck would anyone say that?!"

"And who were you supposed to have kidnapped?" Cloud frowned.

Sephiroth sighed, shaking his head. "Kala-Ansa's daughter," he said. "She adores me."

Cloud gave him a look as though he had sprouted three more wings. "You, and some kid?" he said in disbelief. "That would never happen."

"How long's this been going on?" Zack exclaimed. "And what's it gotta do with you being called a kidnapper?"

Sephiroth crossed his arms. "I just met her yesterday," he said. "I walked her home after she got into a fight with that obnoxious boy. Her mother didn't approve." His eyes narrowed. "I saw her next that evening. She said she had run away from home and that Kala-Ansa had brought some man to 'cure' her of the spell I put on her."

"What the heck?!" Zack burst out.

Cloud just shook his head. He was liking the sound of this woman less and less. It was like she was living in the dark ages.

"I took her to Merlin's," Sephiroth said, his tone weary. "She wasn't ready to attempt going back, for fear of finding that man still there. As far as I know, she's still at Merlin's home." There was no need to mention their sojourn in the cathedral. It was irrelevant to the problems at hand. "Meanwhile, Kala-Ansa believes I took her daughter somewhere and has been rallying the townspeople against me because of that."

"Oh great." Cloud frowned. "Maybe you should've dragged her back home, even if she was kicking and screaming."

"She was terrified, Cloud. And if the situation was truly as she described, it sounded as though it could be classified as abusive." Sephiroth studied the blond. "Would you want to be responsible for sending a child into something like that?"

Cloud averted his gaze. "No," he mumbled.

"I did what I thought was best," Sephiroth said.

Zack nodded. "And it probably was best," he said. "So, let's not worry about it! If anything goes wrong, it just does."

Sephiroth grunted. "I thought you didn't believe in fate."

"It's not fate!" Zack gestured wildly. "But it doesn't mean any of us would be responsible for trouble. It's just the crazy prejudice!"

Cloud sighed. That was true, but he was still worried. He did not want the situation to get even worse, and he definitely did not want it to be caused by Sephiroth only trying to perform a kindness. Kala-Ansa would stop at nothing. Her heart was cruel and and black. And if she continued to believe that Sephiroth had taken her daughter, her rage would know no bounds.

* * *

By evening they determined that they should survey the city again. They had encountered precious few soldiers and police officers on the daytime trek, and it should help to have as many people out as possible. Under the cover of night, it seemed that the clones might be more likely to venture outside. Zack was concerned, but he agreed.

And so Cloud and Sephiroth were now wandering through the mostly cleared streets, snow and ice on either side of them and a frozen wind nipping at their cheeks. Most residents were inside, unlike the previous night when they had been searching for Sun. That was a relief, and yet in another way the calm seemed eerie. It was not likely to last.

Sephiroth idly wondered how the child was getting along, and whether the Restoration Committee would try to convince her to go back home. Maybe they would call Kala-Ansa and say that she was there, and have Sun tell her that she would come back only if that man would not try to hurt her. But they would have no guarantee that Kala-Ansa would not lie just to get her daughter back. Or she might think that Merlin and the Restoration Committee had kidnapped Sun. When she had lost all reason, it was impossible to know.

"There's no fires here," Cloud stated the obvious. He was bored, but also tense. Something was wrong. He could feel it. And from the way Sephiroth's wings were being carried---as if they were stiff boards---he sensed it too.

"I'm surprised the clones haven't tried anything yet," Sephiroth frowned. "Let's try over here before we call it quits." He indicated the block around the corner. It would eventually lead to the other end of the marketplace, which the clones had seemed so fond of attacking.

Cloud nodded. "Fine. Let's get it over with." Under his cloak, the bat wing twitched. It was still healing. Just this morning he had examined the dark thread weaving through the leathery flesh. Underneath, it had looked like the skin had knitted together, as it should be. He hoped the thread could be removed soon.

A cold sensation washed over him, freezing him in his tracks. There was something wrong with their plan. Somehow he knew it. Something would go drastically amiss if they did what they had just spoken of.

He could not explain why he did what he did next.

"Sephiroth!" He reached out, grabbing at the other's arm. "Let's not go that way."

Sephiroth frowned. "Why?" he asked. "Do you think a lynch mob is lying in wait?" This was said only half-sarcastic.

Cloud glowered, gripping tighter. "I don't know!" he grumbled. "I just . . . I don't think we should go there. Look, there's no smoke, or weird lights in the sky or anything. The clones must've not started anything there, either."

Sephiroth made a grunting sound in his throat. It was not usual for Cloud to have such random and sudden changes of mind. That fact alone made him willing to listen. And he was tired himself. He wanted to get home, and to not bother with pointless investigations along the way.

"Let's take another route home," Cloud went on. "I don't know, like going left instead of right." But that did not feel good, either. In fact, the more he thought about each path, the more his uneasiness increased. And now it sounded like vague voices being carried on the wind. Some kind of mob was coming. Whether it was a lynch mob or not, who cared. Obviously whoever it was did not like them.

"Teleport us out of here!" he burst out, just as groups of angry people began to converge from all directions. They would be trapped. And he was not in a condition for battle.

Sephiroth was not going to argue. Cloud was grabbing onto him, and that was all that needed to be in order for them both to leave. He shut his eyes, concentrating and gathering his powers to him. Undoubtedly this would not make them any more popular, to vanish before everyone's eyes. But they had no business trying to attack him and Cloud. Neither of them had done anything wrong.

The same instant he teleported, something hard hit him in the back. His concentration was shattered. He had meant to send them home. Instead he found himself tumbling into a snow bank.

He coughed, spitting the powder out of his mouth as he raised himself up. Wonderful. He had been so distracted that he had sent them to the base of the Dark Depths. The lights of Hollow Bastion shone in the distance.

"Cloud?" he called.

No answer.

He stood, dusting the snow out of his hair and off of his coat. "Cloud!" This time his voice was stronger, more commanding. Maybe the distraction had sent them flying in different directions and Cloud was laying dazed. But a quick search of the area showed that he was not there.

Sephiroth did not stop to think any further. Again gathering his strength, he teleported back to where they had been. Cloud had been left behind somehow. Maybe whatever had hit Sephiroth in the back had jarred Cloud away, too. Maybe he had even ended up teleported somewhere else. But the first priority was to check back where Cloud had last been with him. The mob could not have gotten away so fast.

And yet the area was still. Sephiroth could only stare. He had transported himself to an empty plaza. There were the roads that they had contemplated taking. But there were very few of the footprints of the mob in the snow. They had vanished, and had tried to erase the evidence of their trail. And Cloud was nowhere to be seen either. Had they taken him? Or could he have managed to get away?

Sephiroth advanced, casting his gaze about for any sign of his friend. "Cloud!" he called a third time. Still no answer.

Something laying in the snow caught his eye. He bent down, retrieving a scrap of red cloth. It had been resting inside one of the few remaining footprints. The winged man straightened, closing his fingers around it. He had not been gone five minutes. And now, somehow, an entire mob had disappeared. And from the looks of it, they had torn Cloud's cloak and taken him with them.

Unless he could have been sent on home. Immediately Sephiroth teleported there.

Zack looked up from the couch. "Seph! You're covered in snow! Where's Cloud?" he gasped.

Sephiroth's heart sank. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "I don't know." Quickly he began to relay the story, while Zack listened in horror. The moment Sephiroth was finished, Zack began pulling himself up.

"I'm gonna call the Restoration Committee!" he exclaimed. "We'll all go out looking. We'll turn Hollow Bastion upsidedown until we find him!"

"There's no need." Aeolus was standing in the doorway of William's room, his expression grim.

Both mortal men turned to stare. "What do you mean?" Sephiroth demanded.

Aeolus shook his head. "Come and see," he said cryptically. Without another word, he turned and went back into the room.

Zack and Sephiroth wasted no time in following. And then they saw what had made Aeolus react so gravely. William was sitting up in bed, staring across the room at the television set. Kala-Ansa was pictured in front. Behind her, Cloud weakly struggled against the muscle men who were restraining him on either side. Already he had been badly beaten.

"People of Hollow Bastion, we finally have one of the foul winged devils in our grasp," Kala-Ansa was announcing. Her voice was smooth and cold, but the trace of sadistic satisfaction was unmistakable. "In less than one hour, he will burn at the stake, televised live for all to see. This is how we will deal with the invasion of winged beings in our fair country. Take up arms against them! Fight them and all who love them on every side, for they are evil and can only bring darkness and destruction.

"Earlier tonight our mayor was found seriously wounded in his office. Scattered on the floor near him were dark blue feathers. We already know the winged creatures have started fires. We know they have beaten back our armies. And now this. How long will you allow it to go on? How many more people will have to die before this threat is abolished? We must deal with them as we have dealt with the other villains that have intruded on our city. The Heartless were eliminated. The dragons have been killed. The fire imps are being destroyed. And we must add all winged demons to their numbers!

"Don't let them burn down your houses. Don't allow them to murder your families! Innocent children mean nothing to the likes of these!" She gestured behind her at the captive blond. "They're savages---barely even human! You are our city's last hope for bringing this madness to an end!"

Cloud strained against the wretched thugs. "It's a trap!" he screamed. "They want both of us, Sephiroth!"

One of the men struck him hard across the face. "Silence," he hissed.

The screen blanked out, then became covered in broadcasting snow.

Zack could not stand to watch. His fists clenched until crimson began to drip from his palms. "How can they do that?!" he cried. "They can't just kill someone without giving them a trial or anything!"

Sephiroth shook his head. "Right now, the _how_ isn't important," he said. "What's important is that they're doing it. They were broadcasting from inside a building. I think it was city hall." He turned. "You call for backup. I'm going there now." His tone left no room for arguments.

"Alone?!" Zack grabbed at his other best friend's arm. "Seph, you heard what Cloud said! I can't have both of my best buddies getting caught like that!"

"It's my fault this happened." Sephiroth's voice was taut. "If I had held onto Cloud when we teleported, maybe he would not have been pulled free." He glanced back over his shoulder. "I'll be fine."

Zack swallowed. He knew that Seph would never be convinced otherwise. And time was of the essence. Seph could get there instantaneously. But still, supposedly they had at least close to an hour. He did not want Seph to go alone, to risk being caught himself.

Before he could say anything else, Seph was gone. A lone blue feather floated to the floor in his wake.

Zack's shoulders slumped. "He's gonna get hurt too," he moaned, moving towards the nearest phone. William's had its ringer off, so as not to disturb him, but otherwise it worked like a perfectly normal telephone. Zack would call Merlin and the Restoration Committee. And he would see that everyone on their side came out tonight. Kala-Ansa's anti-wing people would undoubtedly have a large army. Well, they would have one right back! They would not let her harm one of their friends.

"I wish I could help," William said, his voice filled with regret as he watched Zack dialing. "The only thing I've done is to have suggested that failed attack on the clone army."

"You've done more than that," Aeolus said. "You saved those people from the fire. In addition, you've gained their support now. And you've shown Zack that I'm not the only good clone among the army."

William nodded. ". . . There must be more," he said then. "If someone could only reach them . . . !"

"They'll break away, too," Aeolus answered, his voice firm. "You don't need to do anything. You just need to rest."

As the receiver was picked up on the other end, Zack came to attention. "Hello?" he exclaimed.

"Oh, Zack. Hello," Merlin's voice answered. "I heard about Cloud. Terrible, just terrible." He sounded strangely distracted.

Zack frowned. "Is something else wrong too?" he asked. After the news about Cloud, the last thing they needed was any other negative announcement.

Merlin sighed. "Well, to be honest, as soon as the news report came on, that child Sun went running out the door," he said. "Leon and Yuffie have gone running after her, but I don't believe they've caught up."

Zack slapped his forehead. "She'll go right to where they're holding Cloud!" he cried. "And she'll probably try to get her mother to let him go."

Merlin paused. "Maybe she'll succeed," he mused.

Zack took a deep breath. "Normally this is where I'd agree with you," he said. "But in this case, I don't think Kala-Ansa would even listen to her daughter. It might even make things worse.

"And we've gotta save Cloud!" he exclaimed. "Seph went running after him." He ran his tongue over his lips. "I think he blames himself for Cloud being taken."

"We're all planning to come out to help," Merlin said. "And I don't imagine you'll stay behind, even with your leg?"

"Darn tootin' I won't stay behind!" Zack retorted. "Let's go save them! And maybe we can put an end to this craziness while we're at it!"

"That's the spirit!" Merlin encouraged. "You'll have all of our support!"

"Great. Then let's get going." Zack hung up the phone without another word, turning to leave the room. He was going upstairs to get his sword. And then he was going to save his best buddies. Sun too, if she needed it.

He could only pray that he would not be too late.

* * *

Cloud was not pleased when he looked out of a window at city hall. Below, in the middle of the square, a small group was setting the ominous wood stick thing in place on a platform. Even through the double-paned glass, he could hear their laughter and their curses towards the "winged vermin." Cloud's wing twitched. They were not going to wait an hour. They had said that to give Zack and Sephiroth a false sense of having time to prepare a plan.

And if Sephiroth had been watching the television broadcast, there was no doubt that the warning of a trap would not deter him. He would come anyway. And Kala-Ansa had some sort of plan in mind for catching him. Cloud did not know what it was, but it was obvious that there was something, from the whispered exchanges between her and her men.

A fist clenched. This was his fault. The stupid mob had thrown stuff at both him and Sephiroth, and he had been startled and jolted right out of grabbing onto Sephiroth's arm. He had lost his chance to be teleported away; he had been seized by Kala-Ansa's lackeys before he had even had the chance to recover from the blow. And now they were going to kill him.

Not that he planned to let it happen, of course. The two jerks were still holding onto his arms. But when they tried to drag him outside, he would kick at them and slam his elbows into their ribs and do everything else he could to get free. And then, well . . . he would just have to run. And keep running. Maybe he should break a window, jump out, and fly away.

"Take him to his death!" Kala-Ansa ordered from somewhere behind them. "Sephiroth will come. Just wait. He's probably already here, determining the best way to get inside." She paused, and Cloud decided that she was trying to be dramatic. "And then we'll destroy them both!" she cried. "Let them burn like witches of old."

Yeah. She was trying to be dramatic. But no matter how much Cloud kept telling that to himself, it was undeniable that burning alive was a very intimidating and actually frightening method of death. He did not want it.

Would it bother Sephiroth much? He could control fire, though he did not have any power over flames that he himself did not originate. He could burn to death as easily as anyone else.

The henchmen came to attention, gripping tighter at Cloud's arms as they began to pull him away from the window.

He came to life, jabbing his elbows into the creeps' ribs. They howled in surprised pain, and before they had time to react, he was kicking at them as well. He tore free, breaking through the window as he plunged into the frozen air. His wing spread.

Too late came the remembrance of the leathery appendage's injuries. Would he be able to fly on it? Would the stitches tear open? In desperation he beat it up and down. He had to become airborne! He had to get away, and then they would not catch Sephiroth, either.

But the wing could not hold his weight. A choked scream left his lips as he began to plummet downwards. Maybe they would not get to burn him at all. The impact of falling from a fifth-story window was not going to be pretty.

His descent stopped as an arm curled around his waist. His eyes widened in shock and disbelief. A majestic flap of heavy wings met his ears.

"Sephiroth?" he gasped, struggling to turn and look.

A grunt answered him. "Let's get out of here," the tri-winged man said.

Both of them were shocked by the sudden weight that was flung over them both. Sephiroth's wings, trapped in the small space, could no longer beat. They curled over, wrapping around Cloud's body. But they did not fall. They were suspended by . . . something. Something very strange.

Cloud let out a stunned curse. "A net?!" he burst out. "A steel net?!"

Sephiroth gritted his teeth, anger raging in his heart. He could not teleport when he was physically restrained. And _steel!_ They had purposely used metal to keep their prisoners from breaking the device with their hands or using their weapons. But he reached up anyway, struggling to pry open the top. It would not budge.

"Now, winged men, you will play my game, by my rules." Kala-Ansa was standing at the window from which Cloud had jumped. Her arms were crossed, and she did not seem surprised at all by the turn of events. She had planned to catch Sephiroth in this way. But had she expected Cloud to attempt leaping away? Whether she had or not, it had certainly not ruined her plans.

Cloud glowered at her through the openings in their strange cage. "Yeah, well, guess what? Your game's trash," he yelled. He blinked as spots appeared before his eyes. Suddenly he was so _tired._ But that did not even make sense. He should be wide awake, especially when they were about to be killed!

She ignored him. "Sephiroth," she said, "when you're on the ground again, I want to speak with you."

Sephiroth did not like the new and ominous tone to her voice. There was something there, deeper and darker than her previous sadism.

"When we're on the ground," he growled, even as the net was being lowered on pulleys, "the game will end." As soon as the net was taken off, Sephiroth would teleport with Cloud. If Kala-Ansa believed that they would stay around to be burned at the stake, she was sadly mistaken. But on the other hand, she would surely know they would try to get away. She must have something else in mind. That only meant all the more that they had to move with haste.

. . . Though that could prove a problem. He was growing so sluggish. From Cloud's swaying, he was feeling the same. And realization dawned. The green eyes widened in outrage before beginning to glaze over. He slumped back.

Kala-Ansa only smirked. "Yes, Sephiroth, it most certainly will," she said.

The net hit the snow-covered grass. As the top was mechanically loosened, the two men were still. Cloud was sprawled across Sephiroth, neither noticing or caring. Their wings were limp, intertwined with each other as well as arms and legs. The thugs who poured out of the front of the building did not have any difficulty in lifting them out. There was no resistance.

Kala-Ansa had indeed thought of every angle. She was not in the mood for a long, drawn-out fight, which could end in error. She wanted a surefire method to keep them from getting away. The odorless knock-out gas she had installed in the net had worked wonders.

"Tie them to the stake," she ordered, disappearing from the window.

* * *

The residents of Hollow Bastion were taking Kala-Ansa's words to heart. The military had failed, but that did not mean that the common citizens would. They gathered up whatever weapons they could find, from clubs to old rifles to sharpened kitchen knives. Others had only their shovels or rakes or hoes. But whatever could be used to kill a winged creature was brought. Tonight this madness would end. The clone army would suffer defeat, while their ringleaders burned to death! After the townspeople witnessed the execution, they would seek out the army.

And the clones were aware of the people's determination. The Master Clone sneered as he flew over their homes. Pathetic worms. They would have no chance of victory. These streets would be running with blood before the night was over, and the majority of it would not belong to the clones.

He teleported back to the castle. The clones under his command were preparing last minute spells and practicing their teleportation skills. He walked among their ranks, placing his hands behind his back.

"We've been accused of being savages," he smiled, speaking loud enough that every clone could hear him. "Let's show them just how true of a statement that is. Kill all who oppose you. We are taking no prisoners!" He paused. "But leave Sephiroth to me. He will not burn tonight. He's my prey."

The other clones shouted their consent.

The Master Clone smirked. White Coat had told them of his reasons for making all of them. Not only would they torment Sephiroth and his friends, and see how the townspeople would react, but they were going to attempt the utter overthrow of all current government in Hollow Bastion. The Master Clone himself had delivered the near-fatal wounds to the mayor that night.

But unlike many of his younger brothers, the Master Clone did not trust White Coat. Once they had served their purpose, he doubted that they would be allowed to rule freely over the people, as White Coat had promised. But if any attempt was made to make them nothing more than White Coat's slaves as he ruled himself, then the Master Clone would see that White Coat was eliminated.

No one would take away his freedom, and that of the other clones.


	9. Seeking An Answer

**Notes: Thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help, and for the suggestions on how to expand things! Hopefully it looks better now.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

**Seeking An Answer**

Cloud was the first to begin to regain consciousness. It was a very uncomfortable position, slumped forward yet propped against something. His arms were behind him, his hands tied around some round cylinder thing. And as he woke up further, he could feel other hands right there, resting against his own. They did not move, and there was no response from their owner when Cloud gave one an accidental bump.

"Sephiroth!" he exclaimed in realization. He bumped the other hands again, this time on purpose. "Wake up!"

A low grunt answered him, but it may or may not have been in response to Cloud's actions.

Cloud frowned, struggling to turn and look over his shoulder. What he saw made his jaw drop open in disbelief.

Kala-Ansa was standing in front of Sephiroth. Cloud could not see her that well, but he saw enough to realize what she was doing. She was running her hands down the sides of Sephiroth's face, over his neck, and along his chest. Sephiroth, who was still waking up, did not try to swat her away.

"What the heck are you doing?!" Cloud burst out. "Quit molesting him already!"

She ignored him. "Sephiroth . . . you are a beautiful man," she hissed. "It's such a pity that you are what you are." She moved closer, running her hands through his bangs. "But . . . in spite of what you've done, I'm willing to set you free," she whispered. "Say you'll be mine. Say you'll love me and I'll release you." She leaned in, placing her lips against his.

That woke him up the rest of the way. His green eyes snapped open, widening in shock and then disgust as the treacherous woman explored her lustful kiss. The upper wing came alive, striking her and sending her backwards as she gave a cry.

"Don't touch me again," he uttered, his voice dark and low.

Kala-Ansa straightened, her expression twisting in a grotesque revelation of her soul's true face. "Then you will burn," she vowed. "You and your dear friend."

Sephiroth did not reply. But Cloud could suddenly feel heat against his hands. Sephiroth was trying to ignite a fireball. If he could succeed, he might be able to burn the ropes.

Kala-Ansa turned, facing the crowds. "Light the fire!" she directed. She jumped off the platform to stand aside.

_"NO!"_ a young voice screamed at the same time the torch dropped.

His concentration momentarily lost, Sephiroth turned to stare. Sun was running towards the platform, tears filling her eyes. She reached out, grabbing at her mother. As Cloud looked as well, he could feel Sephiroth stiffening.

Even Kala-Ansa was shocked. "Sun?!" she cried. "Where was this demon keeping you?"

"Nowhere, Mom!" Sun retorted. "He wasn't keeping me anywhere! I was staying with Merlin and the Restoration Committee! I didn't want to come back because of that man you had around!" She gripped tighter. "You can't kill Sephiroth and his friend! They haven't done anything wrong! They haven't . . ." She trailed off, a sob rising in her throat. She felt so helpless.

Kala-Ansa's expression darkened again. "The spell he put on you is still strong," she said. "But if you don't want 'that man' to have anything to do with you, then there's another way to break the black magic." She grabbed her daughter, forcing her to turn around. "Watch the devil burn. When he is dead, then you will be free."

Sun screamed in horror. "NO!" she yelled again, struggling against her mother's grasp. "You have to stop this, Mom! You have to let them go!"

In spite of himself, Sephiroth's heart twisted. This was despicable. He brought his wings closer to himself as the flames lapped in hunger. He would try to make the fireball again.

"What kind of sick-minded person are you?" Cloud demanded. "She's just a kid. Your own kid! Do you know how graphic this kind of death is?!"

"It will sear into her mind that you are both evil and deserving of whatever fate befalls you!" Kala-Ansa declared.

"It won't either!" Sun dug her fingers into the woman's arm. "It'll make me think about how my mom's killing innocent people!"

Kala-Ansa's eyes seemed to grow more wild. "Listen to her!" she screamed at the crowds. "Listen to how Sephiroth has corrupted her mind!"

A resounding cry of affirmation nearly deafened the winged men.

Cloud looked to Sephiroth. "I hope you've got a plan here," he muttered, "because dying really wasn't on my list of things to do today."

Sephiroth grunted. The fireball had at last ignited. He strained to reach upward and touch it to the ropes. "I have a plan," he said, "but if your hands are burned, don't complain to me."

"Better them than all of me," Cloud returned, stiffening his legs against the pole. The fire was too close for comfort. A cough rose in his throat.

And a familiar voice rang into the night.

"I thought we were all civilized people here!" Zack screamed. Everyone turned to look, stunned. Zack was leading another number of the citizens of Hollow Bastion, as well as the army and the police force. While he leaned on his cane with one hand, he raised his sword with the other. Even from this distance, the anger in his voice was obvious.

"You don't have any right to do this!" he continued, even as everyone advanced on the mob. "It's not the same thing as killing the dragons or the Heartless. These are people---living human beings! They're just like any of the rest of you---it's just that they have wings! It's not the wings that make them good or bad, it's what they do! And Seph and Cloud haven't done anything to deserve this! They've always tried to help protect Hollow Bastion, and this is how you thank them?!"

A murmur began to arise in the crowd. Some seemed doubtful, but others were still as determined and hateful as ever.

The ropes fell away. Sephiroth pulled free of the stake, immediately turning to untie Cloud. Everyone's attention was on Zack. No one was watching to stop the prisoners from getting away. And this time they would.

Cloud turned to face Sephiroth as he broke the bonds. "Thanks," he said, rubbing his wrists. "You didn't even burn me."

Sephiroth smirked. Without warning he grabbed Cloud up, rising into the air with him as the fires converged on the wooden pillar.

"No net this time," Cloud commented, smirking as well. But then he saw something he did not want to see. He stiffened.

Following his gaze, Sephiroth saw it as well. The clone army was coming right towards the scene.

He teleported to be next to Zack. "The clones are coming!" he announced, releasing Cloud from his grasp.

Zack turned to stare at them. He had seen them getting free, and joy had filled his heart, but it was nothing compared to seeing them standing by him now, alive and well. More than anything, he wanted to hug them, to laugh and cry in relief, but Seph's words brought him back to the reality of the situation. He looked to the sky, a lump coming into his throat.

"There's our real problem!" he cried, raising his sword at the approaching army. "The bad clones are coming!"

The mob exploded into a cursing, screaming body, readying their weapons. The army and the police force prepared themselves as well. Kala-Ansa, suddenly realizing her prisoners had escaped, gave a cry of rage. She would catch them yet. She wanted one more try with Sephiroth. Maybe if they were entirely alone, he would acknowledge the spell he had cast on her and agree to fulfill her desires. But right now Commander Fair was correct---there was a much bigger problem to put their minds to at the moment.

"Attack them!" she ordered. "Destroy the foul creatures!"

Sephiroth looked to Cloud. "Are you up to a battle?" he asked dryly.

Cloud shrugged. "My head's pounding, my wing can't even fly, and my rib's bothering me again," he remarked. "Let's take care of this."

Sephiroth smirked and nodded. "Let's," he agreed.

* * *

The battle raged for some time, with casualties on all sides. Some villagers fell, as well as some soldiers and police officers. Some would survive, but were badly injured. Leon had gone down with a leg wound, while Yuffie was nursing a sore shoulder. And not all of the clones were unscathed. Most stayed in the sky as before, and were only shot down now and then. But a few ventured into the fray on the ground, creating attacks at close range and teleporting in and out as they made their mischief. 

Merlin had chosen to add his magical brooms to the army. Even Cloud could not help smirking at the clones' consternation when they attempted to eliminate one of the objects. Two would rise out of the splinters, and then three and four. When a clone tried burning them all to ashes, ten times the amount that had been incinerated appeared.

Perhaps it was the enchanted household objects that helped turn things in their favor. Or maybe it was the fierce determination of everyone fighting. Everyone and everything played their parts, even the mob on Kala-Ansa's side. The clone army began to retreat.

But something was still not right.

"They're not headin' back to the castle!" Cid yelled.

Zack's eyes narrowed. Cid was right. Every last clone was moving towards the forest. "What the heck do they want over there?" he exclaimed. Maybe it was another trap. In the closed-in forest, the clones would again have the advantage, especially if they stayed in the air.

Kala-Ansa did not seem to care. "There they go!" she cried. "After them! We'll hunt them down until they're all dead!"

Her followers seemed to agree. With one accord they trooped ahead as Kala-Ansa began to lead them.

A police officer glowered after them. "When this is over, they're all under arrest," he said. "Especially her." Kala-Ansa's act of attempted murder would not go unpunished. And all who had actively assisted were just as guilty. But he hated to admit that against the clones, her group was useful. Right now, they needed all the help they could get to overthrow the army.

But in all the commotion, Kala-Ansa had forgotten one very important thing. Sephiroth, however, had not.

"What happened to the girl?" he asked, his eyes narrowed. There had been so much going on. Sun could have easily been hurt, or worse, by the rampaging clones, and they would not know it.

Cloud frowned too. "I haven't seen her since the fight started," he said.

The problem was solved by the front door of city hall being flung open. Sun, not physically hurt but obviously shaken, ran forward to Sephiroth. She hugged him around the waist, tears slipping from her eyes as her shoulders convulsed.

"I'm so sorry!" she sobbed. "I . . . I never thought Mom would . . . I never thought . . ." She gave up. There was not a good way to finish the sentence. She had been emotionally devastated by what had happened tonight. Even though she had known of her mother's hatred for winged people, she had never considered that Kala-Ansa might try to have some of them killed in a non-combat setting. And she had never imagined for one moment that she would be forced to watch.

Sephiroth let her hug him for a moment, though he did not return it. It would be awkward to pull away. And some part of him felt compassion for her. She had not deserved such a mother. After a hesitation, he laid a hand on her shoulder.

Merlin walked over to them, giving Sephiroth a slight nod when he looked over. Leon and Yuffie needed to be tended to, and Sun should not travel into the woods with most of the rest of them. He would take her back to his house with the Restoration Committee. She would be safe there. Though he could not help her emotional wounds. They would have to scab over on their own, though she would have everyone's support along the way.

At last Sephiroth began to ease her away from him. "Don't do this to yourself," he said. "I'm fine. So is Cloud. You couldn't help what your mother did."

Sun bit her lip, looking up at him as she gave a slow nod. "I know," she admitted, "but I still feel horrible. . . ."

Sephiroth gave an inward sigh. This was going to be the hard part. "I have to leave," he said.

She averted her gaze. "And go after the clones?" she supplied.

He nodded. "Merlin will take you and the rest of the Restoration Committee back to their home," he told her.

She looked back to him. "And you'll come back when it's all over?"

Sephiroth paused. He hated to tell her that he would. There was no guarantee of anything in life, especially with their near-constant problems. He might not come back. But at the same time, he was determined that he would indeed return. He could not leave his friends, not if there was any way to stay alive.

"I can't make a promise like that," he said at last. "If I did, and something were to go wrong, you might feel all the more let down."

She nodded now, biting her lip as she hesitated. But then the moment passed. She threw her arms around his waist again, hugging him for only a moment before pulling back. Then she turned, walking to Merlin.

Again Sephiroth sighed to himself. He looked up, first to Zack and then to Cloud. "We shouldn't let any more time pass," he said.

"You got it." Zack nodded. "Let's get going!"

"So you're coming?" Cloud frowned. "What about your leg?"

"It's held out this long!" Zack said. "I'll just rest twice as long when it's all over."

Sephiroth shook his head. "That's a foolish decision," he said.

"Then I'm foolish!" Zack shrugged.

Cloud hid a smile. Of course he was worried about Zack, but he was also grateful for their friend's help. Without him and the armies arriving at just the moment they had, who knew what would have happened to him and Sephiroth. They had been able to get free largely because the mob had been distracted.

"Okay," he said. "Let's mosey."

He ignored the feeling of both Sephiroth and Zack staring at him as he turned to walk toward the forest.

* * *

The woods, though long desolate after the Heartless attack, had revived and flourished in the last couple of years. The pine trees once again served as shields for the many animals and the forest floor, their evergreen branches stretching high and wide. They stood so close together that instead of casting shadows on sunny days, through which beams of light could sneak past, the forest was almost entirely in shade. And on a cold winter's night, it was all the more dark, even ominous. 

The further into the trees' domain that everyone got, the less likely it seemed that the clones could be waiting overhead. But that only made the situation all the more strange. The clones had not been visible for some time, so either they had teleported or else they had gotten very far ahead.

The people began to split up into various groups. Some opted to go deeper into the forest. Others determined that it would be wisest to go around and search the edges. Another group decided to go to the castle. Even if the clone army had not returned, there would undoubtedly be many clones left at the fortress. It was a very dangerous task. But they were willing.

Cloud and Sephiroth decided to press on into the forest. Something did not feel right. Zack agreed with them, and he led a faction of the army right behind. Or that had been the plan, at least, and it had been enacted for a while as they journeyed further into the mysterious hideaway.

But after turning a corner up ahead, Sephiroth froze, his eyes narrowed. "I haven't heard anyone walking with us for the last few minutes," he said.

Cloud frowned. "We were supposed to stay together," he protested, looking over his shoulder. No one was there. And no footprints were in the snow save their own.

He made a face. "Okay, that's really weird," he grumbled. "Is this forest supposed to be haunted or something?"

Sephiroth grunted. "I hadn't heard that, but who knows." He turned around, walking back several yards. There was still no sign of other footprints.

"Maybe we're the ones who went the wrong way," he frowned.

Cloud followed him back. "So now what?" he wondered. Was Zack in trouble somewhere? Whether he was or not, he must be getting worried about them. They had to find where he was.

"Let's go back the way we supposedly came." Sephiroth parted the snow-covered tree branches as he stared beyond them. A dark path stretched ahead as far as he could see. "Of course," he said, his voice dry, "we might disappear too."

Cloud shrugged. "I guess there's always that possibility." He moved to walk past Sephiroth. "Let's give it a try."

Sephiroth held up the branches enough for him to get through, then followed. As they fell into place again behind him, the snow trembled and tumbled to the ground.

* * *

By the time they were approaching an actual clearing, the temperature had taken another plunge. Sephiroth pulled his coat shut against the sub-zero wind chill. Snowflakes were drifting into view now, spinning and twirling to land in the trees, on the ground, and across hair and wings. Cloud muttered, gathering the sides of his cloak to him. 

"More snow. Just what we need," he said, his voice the epitome of sarcasm.

"How wonderful," Sephiroth added, Cloud's sarcasm matched only by his own.

"So we meet again, Sephiroth."

They froze. Kala-Ansa stepped out of the shadows, moving purposely towards them. Her hair was tousled, strands having pulled free of the no-nonsense bun. Tears and rips adorned her clothing, and a thin stream of blood ran down her left cheek. She had been part of other battles since leaving the city. Her eyes were cold and dark, but other emotions flickered as she focused on Sephiroth's form. Cloud tensed.

"Your army isn't here," Sephiroth remarked, his tone frosted.

"Now it's just us," she answered. "I wanted to try again, to give you one more chance to see reason." She stopped in front of him. "I want you, Sephiroth. If you'll agree, I'll see that the people cease trying to harm you, and even your friends."

Cloud snorted in disgust. "They'll think you've gone off the deep end too. Not that you haven't, but that's not the point. Do you really think you can control whether they hate us or not? They hated us before you ever got involved, and they'll keep on doing it no matter what you come up with."

"Not to mention that you have to be even more foolish than you appear, if you think for one moment that I would go along with your proposal." Sephiroth's expression was filled with ice, but the revulsion in his tone could not be hidden. "After the way you've treated me and those around me, you have the gall to even ask? Anything you say is poisonous."

Kala-Ansa was undeterred. She reached out, touching her hands to the edges of Sephiroth's coat. "I could have anyone I desire in this city," she said. "No one has captured my attention as you have." She began to push the flaps of dark cloth aside.

Instantly Sephiroth snatched her wrists, forcing them away from him. "You're attracted to my physical appearance," he growled. "You don't care about me."

In spite of the restraint, she attempted to move forward again. "It's because of this spell you put on me!" she screamed. "You're making me want you!" Her eyes flashed. "I despise you. I hate you with every fiber of my being. But this urge, this swelling fire that you planted, is impossible to control."

"You're weak," Sephiroth retorted. "You could control yourself if you wanted to." He continued to hold her back from him, while Cloud could only gawk at the scene.

"I didn't put any spell on you," he continued, "and I wouldn't have even if I could. You just don't want to admit that you're capable of such feelings."

"I would never have such wicked thoughts if you hadn't given them to me!" Kala-Ansa's voice was raising all the more, echoing eerily off the trees. She struggled against him, even as he gripped at her wrists.

Suddenly she froze, her eyes widening in shock and pain. Both Sephiroth and Cloud stared at her, frowning in confusion. She stumbled back, a blade protruding from her abdomen. As it was withdrawn, she moved a shaking hand to where the blood was emerging.

What sort of ending was this? This was a fatal wound, inflicted by something . . . someone she could not see. Was it more black magic? Something Sephiroth was doing, manipulating his weapon to stab into her without him even holding it? Now that he had no further use for her, he was sending her to her death?

Hatred flamed in her brown eyes. He would pay for this. She would come back after her demise and make him suffer. It was all that he deserved! He had made her lust after him. He was the one who should be punished, foul winged demon!

. . . Sun . . . what would happen to Sun?

She crumpled into the snow, staining it crimson. Behind her, the Master Clone stepped out of the shadows, a dark smirk gracing his features.

"She was in the way," he said. "I was getting impatient."

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. "So you killed her," he said. This was only their second meeting, but he recognized the other. He could never forget---the clone who had tried to kill Zack in their own home, whom Sephiroth had fought with in the living room. His shoulder was still healing from that encounter.

The Master Clone shrugged. "I want to finish what we started."

Cloud glowered, kneeling down next to Kala-Ansa. Removing his glove, he pressed two fingers to her neck. "Dead," he muttered. Not that he had liked her at all, but the Master Clone had cut her down in cold blood. And now the creep wanted to fight Sephiroth again. Cloud looked back up, anger flashing in his eyes. After everything the Master Clone had done, Cloud wanted to battle him too.

But from the way Sephiroth was readying the Masamune, his eyes hard, it was clear that this was personal to him. He wanted to fight the Master Clone himself. The Master Clone was right---this was an unfinished battle belonging to them.

Wings spread. As Cloud stared, the two lifted into the air, their swords clashing. Then they drew back, still hovering in the air, and lunged again. Blue feathers floated to the snow.

Cloud clenched a fist. The scene was too familiar. How many times had he fought Sephiroth in that same way? It would start on the ground, when Sephiroth would taunt Cloud and only tell him the truth about himself, and Cloud would become infuriated. Then they would both leap into the air, using their wings to carry them to each other, and let their weapons meet.

That had not happened for some time now. Ever since Cloud had nursed Sephiroth back to health after the dragon's attack, they had gradually moved towards a mutual acceptance of each other. And that had since deepened to a mutual friendly affection.

No, "affection" was the wrong word. That did not accurately reflect the strong bond that had formed between them.

Cloud snapped back to attention. Sephiroth and the Master Clone were still in the sky, and the Master Clone had taken to throwing fireballs at Sephiroth as well as fighting him with the sword. Sephiroth had little choice but to dodge, though a couple of times he created fireballs in return and threw them back, negating the original blasts.

If he strained, Cloud could hear snippets of conversation between the two.

"I never got to properly thank you for impaling me," sneered the Master Clone. "It helped White Coat determine that our swift healing abilities work wonders."

"'White Coat'?" Sephiroth frowned. So even the most highly-ranked clone did not know Hojo's name. William had assumed that those of higher rank did know, but that he did not because he had been new.

"I hope you don't think he actually cares what happens to any of you," Sephiroth said now.

"Are we here to talk about my creator or to settle this?" Without warning the Master Clone lunged, his sword bared and ready to impale his opponent.

Sephiroth brought the Masamune up just in time, crashing it against the other weapon. As they leaned forward, their intent but very different gazes locked. Sephiroth's was filled with outrage and righteous indignation; the Master Clone's was filled with hate and bloodlust.

Sephiroth abhorred seeing that expression from someone who looked exactly like himself. It made him remember too strongly of when he had fallen into the darkness, when he had blindly hated and Zack had not been able to get through to him.

Abruptly the Master Clone pulled back, clanging his sword against Sephiroth's once more and sending him back as well. But Sephiroth was not deterred for long. He lunged again, all wings spread, at the same moment the Master Clone was creating a devastating fire assault. Sephiroth had only barely enough time to make one of his own in retaliation.

And it was not enough time to prevent them both from being affected by the blast.

Cloud stared in horror. The deafening explosion had stunned them both, and now they were crashing out of the sky. They landed below, the Master Clone skidding across the snowy surface before coming to a halt in a snow bank. But Sephiroth was not as lucky. As he hit the ground, it cracked underneath his weight. He vanished beneath the surface.

All at once Cloud's dream rushed back to him. They had not fallen on snowy ground; they had fallen on snow-covered ice! And Sephiroth had just gone under. The water had to be freezing.

A scream echoed around him as he ran forward, throwing his cloak and boots to the ground. He did not stop to think, to even realize that he had just screamed, or that what he was doing was very dangerous. The only thing that mattered was stopping that dream from coming true. Sephiroth could not die.

He dove under the water.

The Master Clone, recovering from the blow, could only stare at the scene from where he was laying on the banks of the pond. The blond had been safe; why would he risk it all for someone who was possibly already dead? The blast had hit Sephiroth harder, and the water must be sub-zero in temperature. They would both be frozen alive. A frown graced the clone's features as he continued to watch the point where the ice had shattered. He could hear something going on down there, some kind of motion.

Below the surface, Cloud did not even pay attention to the chill of the water. He kicked his legs, parting the aqueous liquid with his hands as he went deeper. How would he even find Sephiroth, when it was almost pitch black under here? The cloudy night, combined with the snow on the pond's surface, made it almost impossible to see anything. He squinted, frantic. If there was any movement at all, he could not miss it. It would more than likely be Sephiroth.

Was that something a bit lighter down below? His hair, maybe? Cloud swam deeper, reaching out to touch it. That was what it was. It was soft in his grasp. And when he felt around near it, he located a limp arm.

He squinted more, his eyes beginning to adjust to the darkness. Sephiroth's body was limp, all limbs and his neck hanging lifelessly as he sank. Cloud gritted his teeth behind his closed lips. Somehow he had to save Sephiroth. He had to! And Sephiroth had to wake up. Cloud would not be able to support his weight all the way back to safety.

He reached out, grabbing Sephiroth by the belt on his coat. As he more fully got his bearings, he draped the older man's left arm around his shoulders and placed his own right arm around Sephiroth's waist. The lower wings weakly twitched out of reflex.

_Come on!_ he screamed in his mind. _Wake up! You have to wake up!_

_Oh God, let him wake up. . . ._

They had already been under far too long. In desperation he reached up with his left hand, clawing at the water as he again kicked with his legs. For good measure, he began to beat his wing as well. Maybe it could serve as an extra arm. He sure needed one right now.

Sephiroth's eyes began to slide open. He was still so dazed from the blast, and being in a half-drowned state did not help, either. But he was still alive. Someone . . . Cloud? It would have to be Cloud, struggling to get him to the surface. But Cloud would never be able to do it all on his own. Sephiroth extended his right arm, sweeping at the water as well. His wings came alive, propelling them further along as he began to kick.

There was really no time to think. But an immense joy washed over Cloud as they continued to strive for the spot of light above them.

At last they burst through, gasping for breath and, in Sephiroth's case, coughing up water. Cloud began to push the other man ahead of him. Sephiroth should get out first. They were right here by the bank. Sephiroth could climb up into the snow and then Cloud would follow him. There was such a feeling of light-headedness washing over Cloud as he struggled to help Sephiroth crawl out the rest of the way. They had both been without air, and Cloud was dressed less appropriately for the weather than Sephiroth. The water, as well as the harsh wind that was greeting them, was chilling him straight through. A weak moan escaped his lips before he could stop it.

Sephiroth could feel Cloud's grip growing weaker as he knelt in the snow, shaking and choking while the rest of the water spilled from his mouth. He looked up, regarding the other in alarm. Cloud was only half out of the pond, and from his loosening grasp and trembling hands, he was going to fall right back in.

An adrenaline rush surged through Sephiroth's veins. He snatched Cloud's wrists, his own hands shaking as he began to pull. Somewhere in Cloud's mind, it registered that he was not continuing to fall. Sephiroth was bringing him forward, out of the water. Sephiroth was not going to let him die. He reached out, gripping Sephiroth's wrists as the older man hauled him onto the bank and into the snow.

Sephiroth cast his gaze around the area. There was a splash of red, right within arm's length. That had to be Cloud's cloak. Sephiroth grabbed it in an instant, pulling it to them. It was not very dry either, really. Snow was all over it. But it was still warmer than what Cloud was wearing. Cloud was trying to kneel now, hugging his arms as his teeth chattered out of his control. Sephiroth wrapped the crimson cape around the younger man, pulling Cloud against his own body. They would need to stay as close as possible for warmth. And under the circumstances, teleportation was futile. Sephiroth might plunge them right back into the icy depths.

He also grabbed Cloud's boots. While balancing him in position, he leaned over, working with both hands to pull one boot on over a half-frozen foot. Then he repeated the process for the other. At least they were dry on the inside. Sephiroth's were soaked through. He sighed, his breath appearing in the air as he held Cloud closer once more.

At last Cloud tried to form words. "I . . . I had to. . . . The dream . . ." he choked out. In his semi-conscious mind, he knew that did not make sense. But maybe Sephiroth would be able to decipher it.

For a moment Sephiroth was silent. There was very little he could do to keep Cloud warm right now. His wings were all drenched; otherwise, they would be perfect insulation for the heat. And the water's temperature could lead to death very quickly under these conditions. But he was determined that it would not happen.

". . . You saved my life, Cloud," he said then.

Cloud slumped further against him, grabbing at his forearm with a half-frozen hand. "Good," he mumbled. "That's what I was trying to do. . . ."

Sephiroth held him closer. He could feel Cloud's heart, beating slower than normal. It was obvious that he had been more seriously affected than Sephiroth. And that was a grave concern.

"Will I be able to save yours?" he murmured, only loud enough for himself to hear.

The situation seemed impossible. They were alone. The Master Clone had fled, which was somewhat a surprise. If he had stayed around long enough to see that his opponent was still alive, why had he not tried again to finish him off? Not that Sephiroth was not grateful. He would not be able to fight any more in his condition. Even if he was not injured, he had to look after Cloud.

And what about Zack? They still had not found him. What if he was hurt somewhere, too? What if Sephiroth needed to get to him to help him? It was not a good idea to stay where they were, kneeling in the snow. If at all possible, they needed to get up and move around. But wandering aimlessly would be foolish, too. And it was debatable whether Cloud could get up. He had been beaten before they had almost been burned, and then he had no doubt overexerted himself during the succeeding battles. It could not help that now he was freezing and had risked everything to save Sephiroth.

Sephiroth gritted his teeth, spreading his wings for balance as he tried to get his feet under him. Cloud's wing twitched at the movement, but otherwise he did not seem to react. As Sephiroth stood, bringing Cloud with him, the blond could not get his balance. He swayed, crashing into Sephiroth. A weak curse slipped from his bluish lips.

"At least you're still somewhat aware," Sephiroth commented, his tone dry.

Cloud muttered assent.

"Can you walk?" Sephiroth asked.

A vague shrug.

"Try," Sephiroth encouraged.

Cloud balanced himself against Sephiroth, taking a shaking step forward, then another. Sephiroth moved with him, and Cloud slumped against him once more after the second step.

"It's a start," Sephiroth said. "We're going to keep looking for Zack. Alright?"

Cloud's nod was barely discernible.

As they began to move forward, the falling snow swirling around them, Sephiroth had to wonder if he had made the right decision. They would find out soon, he decided with a grim and morbid smirk.


	10. Please Don't Cast Them Out

**Notes: Thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help!  
**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

**Please Don't Cast Them Out**

Zack gritted his teeth in frustration. Seph and Cloud had been missing for some time, and despite all of his and his men's best efforts, they had not been found. There were no clues to where they had gone, either. They had been in the lead, so it seemed especially preposterous that they had vanished. But they had gone around a corner and then had just been . . . gone.

And now the army was being attacked by clones. They had suddenly poured out from a nearby clearing, and it was all the soldiers could do to fend them off. Some were afraid that Seph and Cloud had been attacked first, and that now they were hurt . . . or worse. Zack refused to believe it. At least the "worse" part. They might very well be hurt, and that was part of what was worrying him so deeply.

He clanged his sword against a clone's. He hated fighting them, really. It was like fighting Seph, and it just made his heart ache to think about something so awful. But when he looked into the clones' eyes, he never saw Seph, or even a trace. And so he swallowed hard and kept fighting. He had to, really, whether he wanted to or not. The clones could not be allowed to roam free. And they obviously were not going to settle for anything less than combat.

In such close quarters, the clones were forced to all fight on the ground. Some had fallen. But most were still very much alive. There were more soldiers dead than clones. All those around him believed they were fighting a losing battle. And as much as Zack hated to agree with that assessment, it did not look good at all.

The clone fell back. Before he could advance on Zack again, a bright light made him and all the others pause. Another clone was teleporting into their midst.

Zack gripped his weapon as the other appeared. It was the Master Clone. He would know that ruthless creature anywhere, after their two meetings. He glowered, his gaze boring into the Master Clone's. He only received a cool deadpan look in reply.

And all around them, the other clones were collecting their weapons and coming to the Master Clone. He was their leader, and his sudden appearance must mean that they had new orders. The army tensed, all eyes staring.

The Master Clone brought up his sword, holding it to Zack's neck. "Your friends are near the pond," he said. "You should hurry. They're both in bad condition."

Zack's mouth dropped open. "Huh?!" he burst out. "What'd you do to them?!"

"It wasn't me so much as the elements," smirked the Master Clone. "Even though I did use an illusion on them to lead them off the right path."

He glanced over his shoulder at the other clones. "We're leaving," he announced. "Let them be."

The clones did not even question it. Seemingly with one accord, they vanished. The army was left gaping.

Zack came to life first. "You heard what he said!" he exclaimed. "We've gotta get to the pond!" He turned, grabbing up the cane that had been temporarily forgotten. His hands were shaking. He remembered Cloud's dream very well, and the weird incident with the mirror. Had they fallen into the pond? Was that what the Master Clone had meant by the elements being what caused them the most misery? Water at the point of freezing or below could lead to death within a very short amount of time. Panic was eclipsing all other emotions.

"Sir?"

He turned back, looking to Corporal Edwards. The soldier was frowning.

"How do we know they won't ambush us there, sir? It could be a trap. The pond is in a clearing. They would have a better advantage."

Zack took a deep breath. "We've gotta take that chance," he said. "Seph and Cloud are more important than the risk of another attack."

"But why would the clone leader say anything helpful?" protested Edwards.

"I don't know," Zack admitted. "It doesn't make sense. But we're wasting time talking about it!" He turned, looking to each of the men. "If I'm leading you guys into a trap, then I'll take full responsibility. But if it's on the level, we've gotta do something about it."

The soldiers nodded their assent. "We're with you, sir," shouted a private from the back.

"Okay then!" Zack cried. "Let's go find them!" With that he limped off through the snow, aware of the troops following right behind him. But his mind was filled with other thoughts. How would they get poor Seph and Cloud warmed up and brought back? If they were badly hurt, Seph would not be able to teleport. Maybe Zack needed to try getting in touch with Merlin through the Restoration Committee. But cellphones likely would not work up here.

"Sir?" someone else called from the rear.

Zack turned. "Yeah?"

"Maybe a couple of us should go back and get a couple of Jeeps," the private offered. "We could bring them to the edge of the forest, and then at least you wouldn't have to take General Sephiroth and Mr. Strife so very far."

Zack grinned in relief. "That's a great idea," he encouraged. "And maybe you can look for Merlin while you're at it. The best thing might be to teleport them out."

The private nodded. "Yes, sir! He might have gone to the castle to fight, but if he's available, we'll see if we can find him."

"Great," Zack chirped. "But don't hang around looking too long. Above all else, we've gotta hurry."

"Yes, sir!" The private saluted him, which Zack returned, and then he and two others quickly departed the group.

Zack turned back to the path ahead. If there were not any more illusions, going right should take them to the pond. But were Seph and Cloud really bad off? The Master Clone had said they were near the pond. But they . . . they would not still be _in_ it, would they? Would he have left them knowing that they were in that kind of agony? Zack would not put it past him. Maybe instead of a trap, it was just a way to torment all of them, and especially Zack, by leading them there knowing that Seph and Cloud were already frozen to death.

"Oh please let them be okay," he choked out under his breath. "Please . . . they've gotta be!"

He hobbled around the corner.

* * *

Sephiroth crashed to his knees, his wings spreading out around him in the snow. At his side, Cloud mumbled something that was probably a curse directed towards their misfortune. He slumped further against his friend. Sephiroth could feel Cloud's breath against the side of his face. It froze almost the moment it entered the atmosphere, and Sephiroth gritted his teeth.

It was hard to say how much or how little they had walked. They were both half-frozen from the pond, and the blizzard was still nipping with fury at their backs, wings, and skin. Sometimes the flakes would rush into their eyes, the stinging sensations forcing them to look away and blink and try to clear their vision. Cloud's eyes were still watering from the last time it had happened.

"We have to keep going," he mumbled. "Zack . . ."

"He's probably fine," Sephiroth answered. But it was mostly being said to try to keep Cloud calm. The more time that passed, the more worried Sephiroth grew about their friend. Had clones spirited him and the whole army away somewhere, maybe to the castle? Had they fallen into some tunnel?

. . . He never had figured out how the villagers had gotten away with Cloud earlier that night. Had they used some sort of underground tunnel? He had heard rumors that there were still some open underneath the city.

Maybe asking Cloud about it would help to keep him awake and aware.

"How were they able to take you away?" he asked.

Cloud gave him a bleary look. "Take me away?" he repeated. "When?"

Sephiroth frowned. "After they got us separated right when I was going to teleport."

"I don't know," Cloud mumbled, his voice slurred as he burrowed against Sephiroth's hair. "Something about the floor and the snow coming down . . ."

It was hopeless. Cloud was not making sense. And from the increasing weight, he had either passed out or was getting close to it. Sephiroth kept a firm arm around the younger man, shifting position to bring his other arm around Cloud as well. He could feel the other's body trembling, the leathery wing twitching this way and that.

He was not even certain he could get up again himself. If he managed, he would probably have to carry Cloud. And it could not last for long. The Master Clone's blast had been stronger than he wanted to admit, and the plunge into the water was taking its toll.

A grim smirk graced his features. Maybe Cloud's dream would come true, after all. He was not going to give up, he would _never_ give up, but at the moment he was at such a loss. What could he do now? His legs were aching and stiff. They did not want to obey his orders to move. His wings felt stiff, too. He never liked getting them wet, and in a situation such as this, it was especially undesirable.

He brought Cloud closer to him, shutting his eyes in frustrated despair. There was only one thing left he could think of to do. He had not tried it before. He still did not want to. The very thought made him recoil in horror. He was not worthy. To even think of it seemed blasphemous to him. But the priest's words echoed in his mind.

_"The honest in heart are always welcome."_

What he wished now was honest, and from the heart. And it was not for himself, or he would still be refusing.

His chapped lips parted. "Oh God . . ." He checked himself. He did not feel as though he was being listened to. And it felt all the more awkward to talk if he would not be heard.

"I don't know what else I can do," he continued at last. "My strength is spent. I should not be trying to speak to You. I know I'm unworthy. My sins are unforgivable. But . . ." He hesitated again, struggling to work out what he wanted to say.

"Cloud should not have to die. He risked everything to save me, someone he once despised and hated. And Zack . . . he has always been pure and good. I don't know if he's in danger right now, but if he is, protect him.

"It will devastate him if anything happens to us. I can't bear that. If there is anything else I can do to get us away from here and to find Zack, please . . . I need to know. For myself I would never ask anything of You. But for Cloud and Zack . . . I am willing to do even what I should not."

He was not certain how to close his sincere prayer. He muttered something under his breath that he thought he remembered was the correct thing to say. And now what? Just wait? Would he receive an answer at all? Would God be disgusted that he would ask at all, even in order to help someone else? Maybe it was stepping out of his place to address God in any way, shape, or form.

But something began to wash over him---a comforting, welcoming assurance. He had been heard. And there was not any sense of revulsion or anger because Sephiroth had strived to make contact. There was only love. He was being received with joy and gladness. For a moment he could not think of anything but that feeling. He was overwhelmed, his heart swelling.

And in his mind, he could hear the answer to his plea.

_Zack is alright. Keep Cloud warm as best as you can until you're found. It will save both of your lives._

Would it help any to wrap his wings around Cloud? They were chilled, but so were his arms and every other part of his body. Maybe they would help. Maybe they would insulate any bit of warmth the two had left. Slowly he moved the feathery appendages around Cloud's barely shivering body. The blond stiffened, but then began to relax.

It was a good thing Cloud was still shaking, though it was a worry that it was so infrequent. When hypothermia would begin to get its deadly hold on a victim, the trembling would stop. And that was just one of the many frightening symptoms.

But they would be found. They just had to hold out a bit longer.

"Are you still awake, Cloud?" Sephiroth spoke.

Cloud muttered something unintelligible. But it had the desired effect; Sephiroth knew Cloud was conscious, even if only barely. Had he heard Sephiroth praying? It was not likely that he would have realized what was happening, and it seemed almost sure that he would not remember any of this once they woke up safe and warm somewhere else.

And that was fine with Sephiroth. His communication with Heaven was not for anyone else to hear. Yet he had felt the need to speak aloud. Perhaps because he had only prayed on rare occasions in his life, and saying it aloud made it more real---more respectful, somehow. To say it in his mind, at least right now, would make him feel as though he was thinking it and not saying it, and that he would not be heard. Even though he knew that he would be heard as much one way as the other.

Cloud's wing was twitching more slowly. Sephiroth frowned. That was a matter of concern, too. Did it mean he was losing the strength to stay awake? His body was going more slack.

"Cloud!" Sephiroth demanded, his voice harsh. He was fighting for consciousness himself. He shut his eyes for a moment, then snapped them open again. He could not sleep.

Cloud mumbled. This time Sephiroth heard him.

"Sorry . . . I'm a burden. . . ."

Sephiroth looked down at him. "You aren't," he said. "Keeping you awake keeps me awake."

"Heh. . . ." Cloud gave a weak smirk.

He sobered. "Do you think we'll come out of this one?"

Sephiroth paused. "I think we will," he said. "Listen---someone's coming. You can hear crunching in the snow."

Cloud fell silent. "Yeah, I hear it," he realized.

Both were too exhausted to call out, but the footsteps were growing louder. As they watched through bleary eyes, Zack burst out of the trees. He stopped, looking over the scene. His eyes widened. "Seph! Cloud!" he cried.

It was hard to say who was more joyous. Zack limped over to them, his arms outstretched. As he fell to his knees, pulling the half-frozen men close, they drew him into their embrace as well. They were safe.

* * *

The next moments passed in a blur. Sephiroth and Cloud were assisted in walking to the nearest break in the woods, where a Jeep was waiting. They and Zack were driven to their home, and Zack and William---who was now up and around---set about getting the two gradually warm with new clothes, hot water bottles, and layers of quilts. They burrowed under the covers, wings twitching now and then as they began to dry. Zack and William opted to keep a vigil over them. Aeolus had needed to go "take care of something", though he had not said what it was.

Zack sighed, leaning back as he turned off the blow dryer a few moments later. He had run it over all the wings, as well as their hair, and Seph would no doubt be disgusted by the way his feathers were fluffing out. Zack reached down, running his hands over the nearest wing to smooth the feathers. The appendage pulsed under his touch.

"What a night," he said, his voice stretched and taut. It was too much like when he and Seph had been worrying over Cloud after he had been attacked. And now, as before, he had to worry over both of them. "This . . . it's just been beyond crazy. And horrible." He looked many years older from the glow of the fire, his lavender eyes filled with indescribable pain and anguish.

William stared at him. It was haunting, to see him like this. True, he had not known Zack for very long, but Zack had seemed a lot more cheerful earlier that day. And William was very empathetic. He could not stand to watch anyone in such agony.

"I don't really understand," he confessed. "Why would so many people go along with Kala-Ansa's plan when it was obviously evil? Burning two men without even giving them fair trials?"

Zack shook his head. "I can't even imagine," he said, an edge slipping into his voice. "They all turned into the monsters she thought winged people were." He stared into the fire. It was honestly hard for him not to hate them. He had always been able to understand Seph's disgust of the people's actions, at least somewhat, but the past weeks had shown him all the more what had led Seph to feel as he did. They really did not care, just as Seph had said! Maybe they did not know that he had been their general. But they did know that he and Cloud had been fighting to protect Hollow Bastion. They knew, but it had not changed their minds at all. They had been willing to let both him and Cloud die, just because of their wings and Kala-Ansa's words!

"Are most people like that?" William frowned. "Are people such as you the exception?"

Zack's head snapped up. "No!" he exclaimed. "Most people are good. Just . . ." He massaged his eyes. "I dunno . . . people are stupid," he said. "A lot of them fall prey to any crazy notion that comes along. That's what I've been finding out, anyway. If they realize they're wrong, then that's one thing. But a lot of them never do. They always think they've been in the right. Maybe they just want something to hate. I don't know."

A weak smile came over his features. "There are people who never let that happen, though," he said. "Some people never will give in to prejudice. There's a lot of them here in Hollow Bastion. I don't want you to think for one minute that there aren't." He looked over at William. "They'll accept you, just as they've accepted Seph and Cloud."

William nodded. "But . . . the prejudice never will die out altogether, will it?" he asked.

Zack sighed again. "Nope . . . it never could, I guess," he said. "Not as long as there's always good and bad in the world. It's just something we have to deal with. But it doesn't mean we have to like it." His gaze fell to his two semi-conscious pals. If anyone really got to know them, there was no way that they would be hated. But some people would not even try. That was frustrating enough, but when their immature attitudes descended to allow things such as this to happen, then Zack was no longer willing to sit back and accept it. Cloud and Seph had nearly died because of the blind intolerance!

"I don't think I ever could like it," said William.

Zack drew his knees up to his chest, resting his chin against them. "I dunno who could," he said.

* * *

It was some time later when Cloud at last stirred. The warmth from the fire was hitting his face, maybe a bit too strong. In spite of his previous chill, now he was too hot. Weird, how science worked. His eyes opened, blearily studying the flames through the safety grate. He and Sephiroth could have died because of fire, as well as from the cold. What a crazy night.

And where was Sephiroth? Cloud turned over, beginning to sit up amid the covers. Sephiroth was sitting up as well, inspecting his wings and hair. He looked as though he had been awake for a while already.

"I was wondering if you were going to sleep a lot longer," Sephiroth said. "You were hurt worse."

Cloud shrugged. "I'm fine," he said, ignoring the fact that he really did feel like he had been hit by a truck.

Sephiroth nodded in a vague sort of way, as if he had expected that response and did not believe it. Not that he was one to comment on its untruth. Both he and Cloud knew that he did the exact same thing.

He pulled his hand away from his hair. "I want a shower," he said, his tone flat.

Cloud looked at him. "Do you really think you could stand up for that?" he wondered.

Sephiroth grunted. "I could manage," he said.

Cloud somewhat doubted it. But a shower really would be nice, after that unwelcome swim. He reached up, running a hand through his now-rough spikes. Getting one's hair wet when it did not involve washing it always seemed to result in it behaving in irritating ways. Sephiroth's almost looked stringy. He would hate that. He prided himself on its normally soft and silky texture.

"You guys need rest!"

They looked up. Zack was coming in from the kitchen, giving them both reproachful looks.

"Trust me, you won't be up for five minutes and you'll be ready to collapse right back again!"

Sephiroth steadied himself on the arm of the couch as he began to rise. "I'd settle for a hot bath," he said, "though I would have to shower to properly wash my hair."

Cloud smirked a bit. "A hot bath's fine with me," he said. "If you think you can get upstairs, I'll take the downstairs bathroom."

"I can get upstairs," Sephiroth said.

Zack looked back and forth between them, not happy by this development at all. But he knew he would not be able to stop them. Cleanliness was quite important to them both, and Seph especially would get restless if he felt his hair needed washing.

"William and I'll be listening," he said. "If you fall, we wanna hear it!" He paused. "Hey, I have a better idea. Why don't you just take turns and use the downstairs bathroom?" he suggested. "You've been awake longer, Seph. You could go first. And then you could go when you're more awake, Cloud."

Cloud rolled his eyes. "I'm awake now." But even though he did not want to admit it, it was probably not a good idea to wake up from being half-drowned and immediately leap into the bathtub. He yawned, stretching his wing a bit.

Sephiroth shrugged. "I'll go first, then." He pulled himself up the rest of the way, spreading his wings for balance as he began to half-limp to the bathroom.

Zack watched him go, then looked to Cloud. "You guys really did have it bad tonight," he said with a shudder.

"Tell me something I don't know," Cloud muttered. "I never want to have a night like this again."

Zack poked him on the arm. "You and me both!" he said. "I bet I've got more gray hairs in the last couple weeks than I'll get over the next few decades!"

Cloud pretended to study Zack's hair. "Yeah, it'll probably look like Sephiroth's soon," he said.

Zack gave him a look of mock horror. "You're calling Seph's hair gray?!" he exclaimed.

Cloud snorted. "I wouldn't be that stupid."

"I hope not," Sephiroth grunted from the bathroom.

"Caught red-handed!" Zack moaned dramatically, clapping a hand to his forehead.

Cloud just smirked. It felt good to actually be able to joke again.

* * *

Zack prepared fresh clothes, covers, and stoked the fires once more, while Seph and then Cloud took their baths. Soon the duo was sitting on the couch by the hearth. Sephiroth was drying his hair, his wings twitching from the heat. Cloud burrowed under the quilts. Both were fairly content, all things considered.

"What happened to you guys?!" Zack exclaimed, deciding that now was a good time to ask. "The Master Clone said he made an illusion to get you going the wrong way."

"He did?" frowned Cloud. "We didn't know whether we'd gone the wrong way or if you did."

"The Master Clone spoke to you?" Sephiroth looked to Zack.

Zack nodded, then blinked. "What's really weird is that he told us where to come to find you guys," he said. "Then he disappeared with the clone army."

Cloud peered out of the covers. "That's crazy," he said. "So he let us almost drown and freeze, but he told you how to save us?"

"That's about the size of it," Zack said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sephiroth frowned.

William looked to them both. "While you were each taking baths, Commander Rogers called," he said. "He took some of the men to the castle. Most of the clones left there were killed. The laboratory was dismantled. But Doctor Hojo and some of the other clones escaped."

"That's typical," Cloud grumbled. "Maybe they left to meet up with the other clones."

"But where?" Sephiroth paused in running the brush through his long locks. They were all familiar with Hojo's treachery. Even if he disappeared for an extensive length of time, he would be back.

Zack shook his head. "No clue."

Aeolus, who had joined them again, looked to Sephiroth. "Merlin called also," he said. "Sun has been worried sick." From his expression, he and William now knew about Sun. Zack must have told them after the phone call.

Sephiroth grunted. "I have to tell her about her mother," he realized. And he was not looking forward to that. Sun loved Kala-Ansa, despite the treacherous things she had done. She would be heart-broken. It also raised the question of what would happen to Sun now. She would most likely ask, and Sephiroth did not have an answer.

"Her mother?" Zack frowned. "You saw Kala-Ansa again?"

Sephiroth nodded. "The Master Clone killed her," he said.

"Oh wow." Zack ran a hand over his face. "That's gonna be rough."

"It's not like she could've kept being the kid's guardian, anyway," Cloud mumbled. "The police probably wanted to open an investigation, didn't they?"

"Yeah . . ." Zack looked to him. "But she'd still be alive, you know?"

Cloud shrugged. "My dad was dead to me long before the Heartless attack," he said.

Sephiroth sighed. "She'll need somewhere to stay," he said. "She didn't sound as though she had any relatives."

"Why couldn't she stay with the Restoration Committee for a while?" William suggested. "They invited me to move in as well. We could adjust together."

"Merlin said he'd be happy to let her stay as long as she wanted," Zack said. "He didn't know about Kala-Ansa, but I'm sure the offer'd still stand."

"I'll ask her about it, then." Sephiroth nodded.

"When will you tell her?" Cloud wondered.

"I'd rather tell her tomorrow," Sephiroth said. "After a normal sleep." He frowned. "But after all the excitement tonight, she should probably know as soon as possible."

"She needs a good sleep, too," Zack encouraged. "I told her you and Cloud were gonna be fine, and she seemed happier then. I think it'd be okay to wait till morning." He paused, looking sheepish. "Er, until you've slept good and normal," he amended. "It's almost morning now."

"Maybe." Sephiroth ran a hand over his face. If it was him, he would want to know immediately. But he was so tired he did not know if he could think straight. And she would probably take it best coming from him.

* * *

He never even remembered going upstairs or getting into bed. Yet as his eyes next opened, he found he was laying on his left side, his wings curled around him under the covers. His head was against his pillow, the softness relaxing him. Through the blinds, the light from the new day could be seen.

How had the night passed that quickly? He rarely had that good of a sleep. The experience last night must have taken a lot out of him. It seemed so far away now, more like a dream than reality. And yet it had happened. He knew that, of course. It was not something either he or Cloud, or Zack, would soon forget.

He needed to get up and talk to Sun. Apparently he had taken Zack's advice and had not struggled to get over there last night. He would surely remember that if it had happened, wouldn't he?

He sighed, sitting up in bed as he threw back the covers. Now he seemed to remember something about going up the stairs. And Cloud being sarcastic about him struggling to get to the next level in his semi-conscious condition._"Don't fall down,"_ he had grumbled. _"You'll probably crash at the bottom and go to sleep right there."_

He smirked to himself. He could not remember if he had responded. And classic sarcasm such as that deserved a comeback.

Slowly he climbed out of bed. Judging from the warmth of the floor, someone must already be up. Either that or Zack had just left the heat on all night. He might have, all things considered.

He would get dressed and teleport to Merlin's. It would be best to get it done as soon as possible. Especially since it must already be fairly late in the day.

* * *

When he appeared, the only person in Merlin's living room was Yuffie. She made a face at the sudden entrance.

"You really don't know the meaning of the doorbell, do you?" she said.

He grunted. "Is Sun awake?" he asked, deliberately ignoring her comment.

She shrugged, then winced. A hand flew to her injured shoulder. "Yeah," she said. "She's around here somewhere."

"Somewhere" turned out to be the kitchen. Sun came running out the door and into the living room, her arms outstretched. Before Sephiroth even realized what was happening, she was hugging him.

"You're okay," she whispered. "You're really okay! I mean, I know your friend said you were, but . . ." She looked up at him. He was looking down at her with a sober expression. Not that he had not always given her that look, but something about it now made her stomach knot up.

". . . Something is wrong, isn't it?" she said, her voice somber as she pulled back.

Sephiroth nodded. "Your mother is dead." There was not a good way to pad such a statement. In his opinion, it was better to say it right out.

Sun's eyes widened. She looked away, the tears gathering. Her shoulders were shaking, but no audible sound came from her throat. Sephiroth could see Yuffie stiffening out of the corner of his eye. She thought he had been cruel, to say it like that.

"How?" Sun asked. From her wobbling voice, she was trying to keep herself under control.

"The Master Clone killed her." Sephiroth gave no indication that he heard the tremor in her voice. He himself would never cry, but if for some reason he was trying not to, he would never want someone else to acknowledge his state. That would only humiliate him far worse.

She turned back, gazing up at him again. She seemed to know that he did not like being hugged, but from her plaintive expression she was silently asking for permission to embrace him one more time. At last he gave a barely discernible nod. She came forward, wrapping her arms around his waist as the tears spilled free.

It was still awkward. But he allowed her to stay there until her tears seemed to be spent. Yuffie, for once showing a bit of maturity around Sephiroth, had fled the room and allowed them their privacy.

"What's going to happen now?" Sun asked, her voice muffled.

"I don't know," Sephiroth admitted. "Merlin has offered to let you stay here as long as you need to."

She nodded. "And I could come see you?"

". . . Maybe." Sephiroth frowned. "I can't guarantee I'd always be there." What a strange situation. He was not even sure how to react. But he did not want to deny her the comfort she longed for from him. He did not think he was good at it one bit, when it came to children, but if she was satisfied then he might as well accept it.

"But you'd be there sometimes." She continued to hug him, even while she stared off to the side.

". . . She did love me," she said, her voice lowering again. "I know she did. . . ."

There was nothing to say to that. Sephiroth stood with her in silence.

Kala-Ansa should have focused on raising her daughter instead of believing fables and living in the superstitious world she had created for herself, Sephiroth thought to himself in anger. Now she had left Sun behind, and for what?

What it really amounted to was that Kala-Ansa had abandoned her daughter for carnal lust and burning hatred. And since he himself had let his own hatred destroy him in the past, he had very little patience for those who were as foolish as he had been. So many lives were destroyed or wounded by such actions. And the damage could never be fully repaired.

"What will happen to her?" Sun's voice was still quiet, filled with pain.

"I don't know," Sephiroth said again. "I'm the wrong person to ask." Or was he? He did know that she would likely go through a life review, as he had done. But would it make a difference for her? Would she realize her mistakes? Would she be struck with guilt and alarm? Would she be sent back to make penance for her ill deeds? Or was she too far gone?

It would be ironic, if she ended up being sent back with wings---the very thing she abhorred the most. That would really seem almost just. But it was not his place to judge the matter.

He could only remain with Sun as she hugged him close.


	11. The Children of God

**Notes: Wow, it's hard to believe this is really done. It's quite a bittersweet feeling, as I've loved working on it so much. Thanks to everyone who read and who reviewed! And many thanks to Kaze and Lisa for all the plot help! Kaze must be credited for the wonderful idea of referring to a previous joke in this epilogue.  
**

* * *

**Epilogue**

**The Children of God**

Once again it was an overcast day at Hollow Bastion. Reportedly there would be more snow that evening, but it did not deter most from walking about on a winter's afternoon. They passed over the streets, heading to jobs, or preparing to shop, or even just walking for the sake of walking. It was a normal day for them.

Sephiroth was not surprised. No doubt many had forgotten altogether about the pain some of them had supported inflicting on him and Cloud several weeks ago. The night was past, Kala-Ansa was dead, the clones had vanished, and the citizens no longer had any ammunition to feed their flames of hatred. But no doubt it would still exist, the embers burning quietly in their hearts. It was nothing he would not expect from them. The most he could hope for would be that they would leave the winged beings and their friends alone to live in peace.

Whether he wanted it to or not, it still hurt, that they had been willing to treat him and Cloud the way they had done. But when they did not care about how Sephiroth had tried to protect them in the past, why would they care that he and Cloud had tried to do the same in recent times? They were ungrateful and likely always would be.

He did appreciate the kindness that other townspeople had shown. As he wandered through the streets of Hollow Bastion today, some people smiled and said Hello. He nodded to them. Some he recognized as being among those whom William had saved. Maybe they were still mistaking him for William. But it was a nice change from the icy glares anyway.

And the mayor, who was recovering from the attack on his life, had announced that he was in the process of drawing up a new bill. It would specifically prohibit any unlawful assault against anyone, whether they possessed wings or not. It had received more support than Sephiroth had imagined it would. More townspeople did seem to be rising up against blind hatred. Kala-Ansa's actions of taking it upon herself to be the law had finally seemed to awaken the good people to a greater realization of the monster that had been seizing hold of many hearts. And hopefully it would continue.

With everything that had suddenly happened, Zack had not had the chance to tell Cloud and Sephiroth the truth about General Mathews until the past evening. Sephiroth was still not certain how he felt; it was so much to take in. He had always known Mathews had not liked him, but he had never expected that the man would go that far. Mathews had claimed that he had been concerned that Zack was friends with a Sephiroth impostor. Maybe that was true. But it was revolting, that he had been desperate enough to work with a madman such as Hojo. How could he have ever trusted such a person? Had he really been that foolish, to think Hojo would keep his word?

Another part of Sephiroth just felt weary by it all. It was one more reason to disapprove of Mathews' leadership, but that was not something he would need to worry about anyway, with Zack in charge. He would rather just not even think about it. Hopefully Mathews would never again make such a grievous mistake.

"Hey! Sephiroth!"

He froze. That was the obnoxious boy Billy's voice. Slowly he turned, his expression impassive as the child ran over to him. This was the first time Billy had ever addressed him by name. It was something to wonder about. Usually Billy called him "you," and when speaking of him or Cloud to other people it was not unusual to hear him refer to them as "winged freaks." It was very disrespectful, even if he had been indoctrinated against them.

Billy shifted, suddenly looking embarrassed. But then he placed his hands on his hips and tried to look tough again. "Sun said you helped her out when her mom was acting crazy."

Sephiroth regarded him in wariness. "In a sense, yes," he said.

Billy averted his gaze. He would not admit it, but he had been there the night Kala-Ansa had tried to burn Sephiroth and Cloud. Something about what had happened then had deeply affected him. He had not wanted them to suffer, despite what his mother and father had told him about the winged people and despite his determination to adhere to their views. Sephiroth had never done wrong to him, and seeing so many people willing to kill him without just cause had made him feel sick inside.

"Well," he said at last, "if you helped her, maybe you're not all bad after all." He shrugged in an offhand way, glancing back up at him as he turned to go.

Sephiroth blinked. For once he was surprised. But then he nodded, his expression otherwise remaining the same. "Maybe," he agreed.

"She's crazy about you, anyway, and she's not one of those silly girls that goes off cooing over everything."

Sephiroth allowed himself a slight smirk. "No, she isn't," he agreed.

Billy hesitated. "So . . . yeah. Anyway, I don't think you'll have any more trouble with people trying to kill you."

"I hope not." Sephiroth's voice was flat.

"I'll be telling them something, if they try it." Billy turned again, facing Sephiroth as he started to walk backwards. "I'm gonna go see Sun now. She acts like she likes where she is."

"She does," Sephiroth agreed.

"I'll tell her you said Hello or something." With that he whirled around, running off down the street.

Sephiroth looked after him. It seemed that he was wrong, about everyone's opinions staying the same. The boy's efforts to show that he was changing his views had actually somewhat touched Sephiroth. It had been difficult for Billy to do that, with his pride and his desire to be tough. Sephiroth began to walk on, feeling somewhat more encouraged.

Aeolus had said that he would be around a lot less now. It was his mission to talk to the clones who had perished and to try to teach them about life and living and how to respect people. Some of them were receptive. Others refused to listen, but he still had hope for them. William, he had said, had the same mission with any living clones he found—such as ones who had defected from Hojo or ones left behind for other reasons. William was awed by the responsibility. And he was most certainly willing.

Sun had said she wanted to help, too. She was enjoying staying with the Restoration Committee, as Billy had observed. And she was growing quite attached to William in his own right. She had never seen him as only a Sephiroth clone. The two of them were planning to move back into Sun's old home and be a family together. That would be good for them.

He looked up. Somehow he had wandered over near the cathedral from the other day. Though it still felt awkward to be there, Sephiroth could feel something different this time. God did not disapprove of his presence. He knew he was welcome. And it still overwhelmed him, that one as tainted as he believed himself to be could ever be forgiven and loved. But Zack had done both—he had forgiven Sephiroth and loved him unconditionally. And if God's love exceeded any human's, then Sephiroth supposed it should not really be a surprise that He would feel the same. But it still was, anyway.

Then an eyebrow raised as he drew closer. Cloud was sitting on the steps.

"This is the last place I imagined I would find you," Sephiroth commented.

Cloud started and looked over at him, seeming slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, well . . ." He shrugged. "I was waiting for Zack to get done with his physical therapy thing, and I just started walking around. Somehow I ended up here." He shifted. "I thought I remembered something from when we were out in the snow."

Sephiroth came closer, crossing his arms. "What's that?" he asked.

"I thought I remembered you praying," Cloud admitted, "for me and for Zack."

Sephiroth nodded. "I did," he acknowledged.

"Heh. . . ." Cloud studied his friend's expression. Impassive, as usual. ". . . I was just surprised," he said. "I mean, I've never heard you do that before. You acted like you didn't feel worthy at all and that you'd never ask for help because of it."

"That is how I felt." Sephiroth continued to watch him. "But I didn't know what else to do. I had to hope I would not be struck by lightning for my efforts."

"Well . . . thanks." From Cloud's tone, he meant it for a lot of things. They had been through so much during that time, and they had helped each other in whatever ways possible. And those positive memories would always last along with the negative.

Sephiroth gave a slow nod in response.

Cloud started to stand. "We should probably go get Zack now," he said, stretching his wing. It had healed a great deal during the prior weeks. There was still a vague scar from where the knife had plunged through it, but it would likely fade over time. Zack was confident of that, at least, and Cloud had no real reason to disbelieve it.

Neither had Sephiroth. "We should," he said.

They were about to leave when a familiar voice called out to them.

"Hey! Seph! Cloud!"

They turned. Zack had come around the corner, leaning on his cane. With his other arm he was waving to them.

Cloud shook his head. "You were supposed to wait for us!" he called as they began to walk to him.

"It's just on the next block!" Zack protested. "Being able to walk around in peace is a great thing!"

Sephiroth had to smirk at that. It was certainly true. After the experiences they had been having, the point had been driven home all the more that they should never take it for granted. He enjoyed walked around Hollow Bastion, but not when angry, bloodthirsty mobs were chasing him. That kind of experience took away any possible benefits.

As they approached, Zack glomped them both, grinning in excitement.

"What's the occasion?" Sephiroth asked.

"We're alive!" Zack chirped.

Now Cloud smirked. Zack's optimism had been sorely missed, when he had been so distressed and despondent about the horrible things that had been happening. Now he was able to be happy again.

Zack turned, keeping his arms around their shoulders. "Come on, pals!" he declared.

"Where are we going?" Cloud asked.

"To the car," Zack smiled. "And then, who knows! Maybe we'll drive around a bit and get something to eat."

"Hey, I'm driving, you know," Cloud said.

Zack gave him a mournful look. "Aww, we're not gonna go straight home, are we?"

Sephiroth shook his head in amusement. "What did the physical therapist say?" he wanted to know.

"Well, I really kept off my leg the last weeks," Zack said as they started walking. "Course, you guys made sure of it." He grinned. "She thinks it's gonna heal! Might always have a slight limp, but not enough to be a real worry."

Cloud allowed himself a genuine smile. "That's great," he said.

Sephiroth smiled as well. That was as it should be. Zack should never have been laden with such an injury. For so many months they had gone along wondering and worrying if the damage would heal, and now there was finally more of an assurance that all would be well. That was an immense weight off of all their shoulders.

"I'll be able to quit using the cane soon," Zack continued.

"And then we can store it in the attic?" Sephiroth supplied.

Zack gave an eager nod. "And never have to get it out again!"

"Hopefully," Sephiroth said.

"No pessimism today, Seph!" Zack said. "I'm just getting fired up!"

"We can see that." Cloud smirked as they reached the Jeep. As he unlocked the doors, they all began to climb in—Zack in the middle, Sephiroth on the passenger side, and Cloud driving.

Cloud shut the door, pulling down the seatbelt. "Okay, so where do you want to go?" he asked Zack.

"I thought you wanted to go straight home," Zack said, looking to him.

Cloud shrugged. "I think we can manage a celebration . . . just this once."

Zack gave a cheer of delight.

Sephiroth listened as Zack began to give a list of possible places to visit. There seemed to be no end to it. It was tempting to say, "What have we gotten ourselves into?" But he did not. They would humor Zack today.

Anyway, there was a lot to celebrate.

Cloud started the engine. "Hey, one place at a time," he said, shaking his head as they began to pull out of the parking space.

Zack blinked at him in innocence. "The day's young!" he said.

Sephiroth leaned back, crossing his arms as a slight smirk graced his features. "By the time we would visit all of those locations, _we_ wouldn't be young," he remarked.

Zack's eyes widened in mock realization. "Then we'd better go to the place where you get your shampoo, too!" he said.

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

Now Zack smirked. "So that when my hair starts to look like yours, I'll be ready."

Sephiroth gave him a deadpan look. "Your hair could never be like mine," he said. "Even if you grew it out, it would still look like this." He reached up, poking a spike. "And that would look very unattractive with long hair."

"Aww, you're no fun!" Zack pouted.

"I never said I was," Sephiroth shrugged.

Cloud shook his head at their banter. "So, how long did it take you to grow your hair out, anyway?" he asked, turning a corner.

"All of my life," Sephiroth responded, his tone flat.

"You never cut it?" Zack blinked.

"Not unless I was trimming the ends, or the bangs."

Zack smirked. "That must be where all your powers come from, then."

Sephiroth grunted. Outwardly he appeared unimpressed. Inwardly he was amused and relaxed. Everything was going back to normal.

He looked up at the shifting clouds as several rays of sunlight began to break through. A silent _Thank You_ came to his mind.

And he knew he had been heard.


End file.
